A Woman in Love
by stephyxx
Summary: This is the first fanfic I've ever written, and I've always found the Lizzy-Darcy storyline so irresistible. I'm trying to write this with as least angst as possible... the M rating is for later chapters. Also, I'm a cathartic writer, so this story will be more of an emotional outlet than a productive process. xx Steph
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Some original dialogue.

Lizzy's eyes automatically squinted as the afternoon light sifted through the nearby bay window. The plastic chair she was sitting in was hard and hurt her back. Lizzy stared blankly out the window of _Cherchez La Femme,_ as cars and pedestrians sped by the bakery, frumpy and tucked behind Paris's main stretch. From her seat she keenly observed the scrambling of tourists boarding and descending neon yellow tour buses at a frantic pace.

Exasperated, Lizzy sighed and checked her watch. _8:36 a.m._ Jane was now 11 minutes late, and Lizzy's tissue-thin patience was wearing impossibly thin. _Tap. tap. Tap._ Lizzy's fresh manicure tapped the cardboard rim of her cappuccino. The white paint of the walls peeled from the ceiling down, and Lizzy knew Jane selected this place only for its insured emptiness.

10 more minutes passed, and another quarter of Lizzy's cappuccino disappeared before the bell of the entry way rang, alerting Lizzy of her sister's arrival.

The anticipated blonde floated through the narrow aisle and arrived at Lizzy's table.

"Lizzy, darling! As always, my apologies...Gianna took forever doing my colors." Jane gestured to her perfectly coiffed honey ringlets as she unwrapped her silken head scarf and discarded her tortoise-shell sunglasses onto the dirty window sill.

"Morning Janie. No apology necessary, your tardiness and I have been lovers for quite some time...24 years I believe," Lizzy smirked, standing up and giving her sister's fair cheek a quick peck. Jane swiftly sat down, unloading her duster and Balenciaga tote onto an empty chair.

"So... " Lizzy started.

"So..." Jane picked up, waving over a waiter and clearing her throat. "You'll be the first to hear of this - I have yet to tell even Karlie. " Jane paused and rattled off a pastry order to the idling waiter. "But," Jane began again, drawing out the word, "Charles proposed last night. Completely out of the blue. After the Chanel show." A slight blush slowly painted Jane's cheeks as she cast her eyes downward, awaiting Lizzy's reaction.

"Wow." Lizzy blinked. She sat back in her chair, paying no heed to the scratchy wicker splinters digging into her spine.

"Wow...good? Wow, bad?" Jane's aegean-blue eyes widened slightly, anxious for LIzzie's response.

"Wow, unexpected. But not bad. Definitely not bad," Lizzy replied, giving her sister a soft smile.

"Good. Oh, thank you," Jane ripped her eyes away from her sister's, and looked up at the hovering plate of croissants she had ordered. The waiter, who had not been previously paying attention, finally took in Jane's face. The boy's wispy beard and lanky limbs hinted at new post-pubescence, but his stance grew 10 years with the recognition of Jane.

Lizzy looked down at her empty cup and picked at a fingernail. She was used to the reaction often prompted by Jane's beauty - attraction tangible enough to land three Vogue covers and an envying model career. With gravity-defying cheekbones and a slim figure, Jane Bennet was a classic beauty… Lagerfeld's 'girl next door'. Charles was equally handsome, a tall doctor from San Francisco, a hometown he shared with Lizzy herself. And while Lizzy was very much fond of Charles, she was never sure of the stability of the pair''s relationship. Jane was constantly flying about, meeting with other equally beautiful people and spending loads of money. Charles had a practice in San Francisco - just a block away from Lizzy's office - and rarely had the opportunity to leave his post. Their rendezvous were brief, but passionate, and Lizzy had yet to notice any semblance of domestic normalcy between the two.

Today Jane was in Paris, and she had flown Lizzy over here with little notice and considerable secrecy. Lizzy seldom left San Francisco, as her cases were time-consuming and emotionally draining, so this meeting seemed superfluous and exorbitant. Yet, Lizzy was used to Jane's affinity for drama and innocent excitement.

"When do you fly back?" Jane asked, the sugar of her splenda packet spilling into her coffee coaxing Lizzy out of her musings. "I know you must have a shit load of work on your plate."

Lizzy sighed, flipping over her phone and clicking the home button as casually as scratching an itch. "My flight leaves tomorrow. The Crawley case is a headache and Collins is on my ass 24/7. It was nice to get away, but I'm anxious to return." Lizzy gave her sister's hand a pat and peered out the ivy-framed window.

"Tomorrow? Perfect! You can come with me to the _W_ publishing soiree tonight. Charles will be there, and so will be his best man… and assuming you agree to be my maid of honor, it would be the perfect place for you two to meet." Jane's eyes met Lizzy's expectantly.

Lizzy raised an eyebrow.

"I know, I know...Maid of Honor...domesticity. I fear I'm a cliche!" Jane scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Quite contrary, Jane dear, I would love to be your maid of honor. Let it be known however, that I leave all effeminate duties to whatever poor victim you've hired to be your wedding planner," Lizzy replied, giggling a little at her own apathy.

Jane grunted, piling her belongings together for departure. "Really Lizzy, when will you overcome this chronic ennui? It's becoming quite blase, don't you think?"

Lizzy kissed her cheek and floated to the door, "See you tonight, Janie. Try not to look too spectacular, you're engaged and as you know, I am a serial hermit!" She floated out the door, shielding her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, turning around to see her sister jump in a black car, cell phone in hand.

Lizzy never dressed up. Outside of her business attire, she wore pajamas and yoga pants exclusively. Yet, here she was, three hours later, standing before the floor-length mirror in her room at the _Hotel Plaza Athene_ e, contemplating dress selection between three lowly, disappointing contestants sent over by Jane's assistant. Two minutes later she decided on a recent release: an Elizabeth & James floor-length number with tiered ruffles cascading down the front. The marigold chiffon complimented her olive skin well, and her dark toffee curls, frizz-free after hours of primping, were pinned up so that a few strays climbed their way down her bare back. Slipping her feet into frighteningly-high Louboutins and swiping a fresh sheet of pink-nude gloss onto her full lips, Elizabeth settled with her appearance and headed for the lobby.

She took the elevator alone, as was the same manner in which she crossed the lobby and entered her taxi. Lizzy didn't mind solitude, yet there was something so patronizing about dressing up and painting her face for a night with no guarantees. She spent the taxi ride picking at nonexistent threads on her dress, failing to notice the glittering sights that marked the intrinsity of Paris. The car ride was short, and the butterflies in Lizzy's stomach blossomed into barking dogs in less than five minutes. She paid the driver and exited the car. The sighs of her anticipation disappearing into the niche of lights and laughter before her.

Inside the Louvre, Jane schmoozed a Pinot Grigio and made small talk with Charles' sister, Caroline.

"Caro, dearest, I'm afraid I must speak with Charles! Miranda just paged about a problem with the caterer. Can we continue this later?" Jane simpered, flashing Caroline a totally toothy, totally fake grin.

Caroline, taken aback by Jane's sudden comment in the midst of her own eternal soliloquy, nodded and headed for the bar.

Jane slinked away, eager to find the easy conversation of Charles. She glanced around the room at famous faces with sharp features and cavernous eyes before zeroing in on Charles standing next to a taller, dark headed man. She squinted. So this was the mysterious _Darcy_. Jane stalked across the room, promptly tapping Charles on the shoulder. He turned around immediately, his cerulean eyes lighting up at her arrival.

Janie wrapped her lithe form around her fiance and pressed a full kiss to his unsuspecting lips. She dropped her arm and admired Charles's boyish looks - lanky, with a mop of blonde curls and a toned chest tamed beneath tonight's navy three-piece.

"Jane! Have you had something to eat?" Charles shot back at an uneven speed, blushing slightly from her open affection.

She gigggled.

Charles stepped closer to whisper. "You look absolutely ravishing tonight, darling." Now it was Jane's turn to blush, all the way from her chiseled cheeks to the cleavage bared by the deep V of her black Versace dress. She ran a hand through her flat-ironed hair and patted down the velvet of the dress's skirt.

Charles stepped back again, and suddenly remembering his conversation, gestured back to the dark hair gentleman on his left. "Ah, Jane...this is my best mate, Will Darcy. Darcy this is my fiancee, Jane."

Jane gave the man a once over, and met his harrowing stare with a twinkle in her eye. "Well, I can't tell you how glad I am to have finally met the legendary Mr. Darcy," she lilted, tilting her head to give his looks the vantage point they deserved.

"And you as well, Ms. Bennet," Mr. Darcy replied, in a broad sweeping voice. "I fear I would not have the pleasure of attending such a party as this had it not been for your persistence."

Jane bit the inside of her cheek. She looked around. The private room of the Louvre rented by _W_ was fashionably exclusive in a small, cramped way. The chandeliers above were darkly lit, and the pianist in the corner played some mockery of blues, switching between folk and classical jazz. Jane supposed Darcy had a point - the whole affair was rather silly, yet his inclination to condescend others was rather insulting to her own livelihood.

Charles chuckled uneasily, saying, " C'mon Darce, enjoy yourself! You barely leave the office, and they must have scotch around here somewhere…" Charles's obvious attempts to appease Jane's wounded ego and Darcy's irritation were poorly masked. Both Darcy and Jane failed at hiding their chagrin.

"Anyways... Jane," Charles continued, "isn't Lizzy supposed to be here?"

Jane suddenly snapped to life. "Oh, you're right! I totally forgot… gosh, it's almost 11 where could she be?" Stretching her neck around, Jane tried in vain to find her sister through the crowd of black and metallic cocktail dresses.

"Lizzy is Jane's sister, and her maid of honor," Charles elaborated to Will Darcy.

"Ah." Darcy replied, taking a swift sip of his Chardonnay.

Five more minutes passed in uncomfortable silence with a mere two attempts by Charles to begin conversation. Jane stared mutely into her empty glass, as did Mr. Darcy, the soft music wafting through the air, intermittently interrupted by the poison of conversation.

"Well, this is quite the party, is it not?" a husky voice quipped.

Jane spun around. "Lizzy! Oh, honey, you look gorgeous!" she rejoiced, relieved at the antidote to the halting conversation. Lizzy really was stunning, and more so than usual today. "Charles, you remember Lizzy." Jane began, gesturing between her sister and her fiance.

"Yes, doll, of course. Lizzy, lovely to see you as always." Charles answered, flashing his dimples and kissing Lizzy's cheek.

"Nice to see you as well Charlie...glad to see Jane is treating you so well," Lizzy returned, not at all oblivious to the tense silence shared between the three before she arrived. Charles beamed.

Lizzy then took in the dark haired man standing opposite her. He was breathtaking, no doubt about it, and even with his dark eyes trained on her exposed chest, Lizzy was taken aback by the deepness of his coffee-colored irises. She cleared her throat, and when his head snapped up, her wry smile was delivered a second too late, on account of her astonishment...this was _Adonis_ in the flesh. A good half a foot taller than Lizzy herself, this man was all chiseled features and brooding glances under fantastically thick tresses of inky curls.

"Yes, this is William Darcy, my best man, and the chattiest floozy I've yet to meet," Charles cracked, winking at a now disgruntled Mr. Darcy.

"Well, what an introduction, I hope it does you justice William," Lizzy teased, hoping to provoke the furrowed brow of her target.

"Darcy. Or Mr. Darcy, if you please," the sulking man grunted. LIzzy's brows raised. She took a large gulp of the sharp Pinot, trying to hide her giggles behind the expensive wine. _Darcy. Mr. Darcy._ What a pompous ass. A gorgeous ass albeit, but a pompous one. As Lizzy stared down her now object of intrigue, and he himself returned the stare, Jane and Charles made their excuses and headed for the dance floor.

"So… Mr. Darcy," Lizzy commenced, "do you dance?"

"Not if I can help it," was the terse reply.

"Right, well...take care Will."

Darcy's head revolved at the unfamiliar sound of his first name, only to see Lizzy's fabulously round backside slipping away in the _very_ flattering yellow frock. He clenched and unclenched his empty fist, backing to the tall cocktail table residing next to the wall. Over the next half hour, girls of all means and objectives, either innocent or malicious, approached him with the same intent. And one after one, Darcy shot them down with no excuse and no mercy. His remorse was not easily earned - he knew the attendees of this tacky excuse for a party were after him for nothing more than a good lay and a story. Lizzy Bennet included.

Please review! I love my critics


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I know, this Jane is a little sassier… I wanted her to have some of O.G. Jane's original sweetness, but I think there is only so much naivety that can be considered practical/reasonable for someone with a career like modeling, and for someone living in the 21st century.

Lizzy stalked back through the crowd towards the bar. "Scotch, neat," she purred to the bartender. The twenty-something slid the amber-filled glass back to her, and Lizzy wiped her lipstick off the rim. She turned around and gazed out into the swarm of the snobby bourgeoisie before her eyes landed on the moody Mr. Darcy standing stiff in the corner. His eyes bore into hers, and she immediately recognized the brazen pretension. Lizzy raised her glass and downed it in one swig, never removing her eyes from Darcy's.

"Lizzy! Ohmygosh it's been forever!" a shrill voice broke into Lizzy's subconscious, snapping the eye contact maintained between herself and Mr. Darcy. Lizzy turned her head.

"Charlotte? Oh thank heavens you're here! I thought Jane said you were still in New York?" Lizzy cried out, equally shrill. Charlotte Lucas was Lizzy's longest friend, and just recently Jane's PR manager.

"Well, I haven't told her yet, but I caught a plane this morning, and I just totally crashed before making contact with anyone," Charlotte replied, setting down her clutch and pulling Lizzy in for a quick, tight embrace. "What have I missed?"

"Oh, well, the usual. Jane flew me all the way out here under the guise of some personal emergency, when she really was, in fact, just alerting me of her own engagement to Charles, a detail that could've been disseminated through a text message or phone call," Lizzy breathed out. She laughed, "No, really, I'm happy for them. She even asked me to be maid of honor. I'm less excited now than I was before" - if that's possible, she thought - "as it seems Charlie's best man seems to be a major ass."

"Maid of honor? You? Wow," Charlotte echoed. "Is the best man here? Who is he?" Charlotte craned her neck to look out past the tight circles of party-goers.

Lizzy rolled her eyes but gave a slight nod in Darcy's direction.

Charlotte sucked in a breath. "HIM? Lizzy, you need to tap that. Immediately."

Lizzy scoffed. "Right. Because the first thing Mr. Darcy's ego needs is another touch of pomposity. Trust me, not even looks as good as those warrant such egotism."

Charlotte raised her brow. "Lizzy, really, you don't know very much about the man. Don't be so quick to judge, besides, when's the last time you had a decent man in your life?"

"Thanks for that," Lizzy muttered.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Stay here...I'll go poke the dragon. And it's not because I think he's any more of a person - it's just been awhile since I've had some." Lizzy set her empty glass on the bar top and crossed back through the sea of bones towards the tall figure inhabiting the chilly corner.

"Mr. Darcy."

"Miss Bennet."

"Miss Bennet?" Lizzy blinked. "Are you always so formal?"

"We don't know each other very well," Mr. Darcy bridled.

Lizzy bristled. "I suppose we will have to become better acquaintances over the course of the wedding though… I hope that doesn't inconvenience you."

"Not in the slightest. Good night Miss Bennet." Darcy dismissed, effectively and casually ending the conversation.

"You as well," Lizzy said, slightly startled. She backed away to a neighboring table and beckoned the spying-Charlotte over.

"Well?" Charlotte inquired, peering out of the side of her eyes at the stone-faced Mr. Darcy standing a few feet over.

"Well, nothing. In fact, I now have zero problem pronouncing him as a major dick. No, Lord Dick. "

"Elizabeth!" Charlotte chastised whilst trying to suppress her giggles.

Ten feet over, Darcy was approached by Charles Bingley. Can no one take a hint tonight? His thoughts must've been projected directly onto his face, as Charles chuckled and clapped him on the back upon his arrival.

"Darce, you've really got to lighten up," Bingley teased.

"Charles, you know very well that I have a proclivity for hating stupid social gatherings, as well as a mounting pile of paperwork to finish at home for that blasted Crawley case."

"Come on, take a load off. Why don't you dance? We're surrounded by beautiful women!"

Mr. Darcy grimaced. "Seeing as both your sister and your fiancee are presently engaged, there are no other viable candidates for my attentions. The women here… well, their vapidity seems to match their willingness to use my money and name for whatever purposes." He took a sip of his Guinness and ran his hand through his hair, a nervous habit he was trying to quit.

"Surely you could give Elizabeth Bennet a chance? She's pretty and smart as a whip," Charles advocated.

"Please," Darcy frowned. "I am perfectly capable of finding my own woman, and I'm certainly not going to find her in Miss Bennet. Besides, she's not nearly handsome enough to tempt me."

It was only a few seconds later than he heard the incriminating giggles. Both he and Bingley turned around in time to see Elizabeth clutching a shorter brunette as they stumbled away, out into the hall.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, wincing as he chugged the rest of his beer. "I'm going to leave Charles. I have an early flight tomorrow, and I can't stand staying here any longer."

Charles's smile faltered, as did his joking manner. "Alright… Well I'm assuming I'll see you Friday? And Jane's flying down for a meeting with the planner - some woman named Miranda Jones - this weekend. Come to lunch with us, won't you?"

Darcy, noting the concerned look gracing Bingley's face, mumbled a noncommittal "fine," before taking off for the exit. He had almost reached the regal front doors when bony fingers grasped his upper arm.

"Will…" cried a nasal voice. "You can't be leaving so soon...It's barely after midnight!"

Mr. Darcy, recognizing the tone and the inappropriately informal use of his first name, shrugged off the hand and took a step back. "I'm afraid I must go, Caroline. I have an early flight."

Caroline Bingley stepped closer and fluttered her lashes. Her strawberry blonde hair was pinned in some extravagant updo, and her icy features were smeared in charcoal makeup and deep red lipstick. She could be pretty, Darcy mused momentarily, if she didn't have the looks and personality of a gold-digging harpy.

"Fine." She pouted, sticking out a wine-stained lower lip. "Also, I'm coming to San Francisco this week, so we must grab lunch!"

Darcy backed towards the door and gave her a tight smile, internally rebuking himself for ever consciously giving the woman a reason to think she had a chance with him. He slipped out the door and into his town car, oblivious to the two sets of eyes on him.

Lizzy and Charlotte had escaped into the crisp night after struggling to stifle their laughter inside the stuffy room.

"Not handsome enough to tempt me?!" Lizzy snorted, bending over in hysterics.

Charlotte, chortling, cried, "Lord Dick, indeed!"

Their sniggering waned, the remaining humor evaporating into the dark air.

Lizzy sighed and sat down on the concrete of the sidewalk. Charlotte joined her, picking at the sparse strands of grass poking up through the crack.

A considerable silence followed before Charlotte spoke up, "He really is an enormous arse Lizzy, you musn't listen to a word he says. I mean what does Mr. Darcy know about the Elizabeth Bennet?"

Lizzy humphed and dug a cigarette out of her purse, sticking it between her lips. "Lighter?" she asked Charlotte.

Charlotte scowled. "Lizzy, dear I thought when we agreed to give up, you would actually be, you know, giving up. I went cold turkey. Haven't had a smoke in weeks."

"Neither have I," Lizzy grimaced, "but something about that man...I just… I don't know, I'm acting stupid. I mean, why on earth, should some..some…should Lord Dick affect me like this?"

Charlotte plucked the cigarette out from Lizzy's lips and discarded it onto the pavement before them.

"Lizzy, shh! Look there he goes," Charlotte whispered. It was at that moment that Mr. Darcy swiftly grabbed his overcoat and climbed into his car with zero hesitation.

Lizzy, her eyes trained on Mr. Darcy's form even before Charlotte's comment, stood up and bid her goodbyes to Charlotte. "I'm taking the red eye back to San Francisco. Give my love to Jane and Charles. I'll call if I can." She brushed off her dress, hailed a taxi, and returned to her hotel, alone and conflicted.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 _Sorry this took so long... school's starting. And I lacked vision. But here we are. Hope you enjoy, please review. xx_

"Miss Bennet? Elizabeth?" cried an urgent voice.

Lizzy managed to tear her eyes away from the grey smeared sky to pay attention to her assistant. "Yes, Mariah?"

"Um, you have a call on line three from HR, and the Crawley meeting was moved from 3 o'clock to 1."

"Shit." Lizzy sighed, rubbing her brow. "Tell HR I'm in a meeting. I have to jump on this damn case if I even want to try taking the lead on it."

"Right," Maria nodded, closing the door and leaving Lizzy to retreat back into herself.

It was Monday, two days after Lizzy's return from Paris, and the passive gloom of San Francisco mocked the tempest brewing within her.

Lizzy picked up the phone, dialing her client's number. "Mr. Crawley? Andrew?"

"Yes, this is he."

"Great. This is Elizabeth Bennet. I understand we are meeting in an hour. My office is on the 16th floor of Young & Grantham. I look forward to seeing you."

"You as well, Miss Bennet."

Lizzy hung up the phone, and, resting her chin on her hand, stared at the lifeless pile of paper lounging on her desk, mentally wishing upon herself a degree in interior design, or art history, perhaps. She was indubitably proud of being a lawyer, but environmental law, however spiritually rewarding, reaped few financial benefits. This was a particularly strenuous case - Andrew Crawley, a local property owner, was suing Meryton & Sons for fracking on his land in Northern California. And Lizzy, no matter what wounds she could inflict upon the corporate titans, hit a wall at every turn - that wall being a particularly aggressive defense attorney who seemed to anticipate her moves before she even made them. She had yet to meet this opponent, so now her life was like a chess game, and she was losing against an invisible enemy with few moves left.

An hour passed, and Lizzy did little else than sign off on a few papers and hope that her spirits lighten with the morning drizzle.

"Lizzy, Mr. Crawley is here, as well as Edgar Meryton and his legal team," Maria chirped, sticking the upper half of her small frame through Lizzy's heavy office doors.

Nodding, Lizzy sucked in a breath, straightened her skirt and blazer, and headed for the conference room nestled in the eastern corner of the building. Had she not been so focused on her impending meeting, Lizzy might have paid heed to the giggles and murmurs that floated through the air as she marched passed the maze of cubicles.

Standing outside the room was Mr. Crawley, evidently awaiting Lizzy's presence before he entered the lion's den.

"Ready?" she asked. Andrew nodded uneasily, and Lizzy gave him a small smile in return. Lizzy pulled open the oaken door and ushered Mr. Crawley in. She followed him into the room, only to pause with shock as soon as her foot crossed the threshold.

Hours before and blocks away, Maggie Novak maneuvered behind the piles of papers surrounding her desk to knock on the cracked door behind her. She was a secretary at the expansive office of Pemberley, Andrews, & Oxford. And, because she was newly graduated from law school, she made every move quakingingly. "Enter," the deep voice called. Maggie, trying not to squeak, pushed open the door into an office filled with dark woods and enclosed by huge, panoramic windows. The owner of the voice stood in the corner, his back to her, nose in a file.

"Mr. Darcy, you asked me to remind you of your meeting at Young & Grantham with Mr. Meryton in 30 minutes." Maggie peeped, the piercing echo of her voice bouncing off the broad back before her.

"Ah, yes, thank you, Margaret." William Darcy's treble responded, resounding deep in Maggie's chest.

Maggie blushed. "Of course." She closed the door and returned to her chair covertly before any coworkers could notice her flushed chest.

Inside his office, Darcy put yet another file onto his desk, and, after sitting down, furrowed his brow. William Dary was a thinker. His conversation seldom extended beyond business - sports with Charles or Georgiana served as the only exception. But for a character as taciturn as Darcy, his passion was arguing. The elder Mr. Darcy talked his son into law school after a few rambunctious years at Cambridge, and Darcy felt he had yet to express his gratitude for the man who recognized more within William than the latter could recognize within himself. His current case was especially rewarding: some lowly farm owner was suing a family friend, Edgar Meryton, and his drilling company, over some baseless accusation. And, now he was forced to argue this inane case before some amateur lawyer who had yet to make some semblance of a calculating move.

Darcy quit his brooding, and, sweeping files off his desk and into a leather briefcase, deserted the room, phone in hand.

"Margaret? Tell Richards I'll meet the car at the East entrance." His secretary nodded. "And make sure Mr. Meryton meets us at Young & Grantham on the 16th floor." Will added as he made his way towards the elevator.

William Darcy boarded the elevator and wiggled his leg as impatience and anxiety took hold. The elevator doors shut after what seemed like an eternity, and Darcy ingrained the last glimpse of his reflection before descending into the unknown.

And when William Darcy's eyes met Elizabeth Bennet's across the corner conference room on the 16th floor of Young & Grantham, Will was struck by an overwhelming sense of the unknown, not dissimilar to his previous. Will cleared his throat, and Lizzy, tossed and thrown by the mere sight of His Royal Arse, stared blankly back, before her eyes twitched and her nostrils flared.

Andrew Crawley cleared his throat - quiet, yet telling.

"Ah, yes, Ms. Bennet. Lovely to see you again," William started, reaching his hand out towards Elizabeth's.

Lizzy quirked a brow and took his hand, her slender one sliding into his-calloused as casually as a snitch slips his hand into an unsuspecting pocket. "You as well, Mr. Darcy. Forgive me, but I'm afraid I had not expected seeing you again so soon - certainly, not in this context."

William withdrew his hand from hers, wiping it on his pant leg - an action to which Lizzy ground her teeth. "Of course, of course. No need to prolong pleasantries. Let's get to work."

Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, along with their respective clients, sat across from one another in the center of the elongated table which was, save for a lone secretary perched in the corner, empty. The room was sparse and cold, cloaked in the the smoky grey skyline enveloping the windows. Two eyes met across the plywood: chocolate irises glaring brazenly into piercing hazels. One pair accused, the other observed.

Lizzy chewed on her pencil as the secretary readied herself for shorthand. Mr. Darcy. William Fucking Darcy. Are you joking? Is this some sick cosmic joke? How did I not realize this before?

Mr. Darcy chastised himself in the same manner: How did I not connect the Elizabeth Bennet atop the file to the Lizzy Bennet in Paris? How can I possibly win this case while still staying in Charles' favor? Damned ignorance, Will. Focus. But how could he focus when Elizabeth's Bennet's fine eyes dug trenches into his mind. Or how a strand of chestnut hair, liberated from her loose updo, crept its way towards the open collar of her blouse and settled in the indents of her clavicle.

Focus.

Once given the signal to proceed, Lizzy, ignoring the curly lock of hair wrapping itself around the top of Mr. Darcy's tailored charcoal suit and begging to be tugged, began to speak.

Four hours later William Darcy stood before the windows of the conference room, not bothering to wish Elizabeth Bennet adieu as she hastily left the workspace. He grunted goodbye to Edgar, as Mr. Meryton rushed off to defend himself in another one of the dozen lawsuits his company faced annually. William Darcy was thoroughly confounded. He had expected Ms. Bennet to be smart, sure, but he had forgotten the combat of a novice. Elizabeth fought him with voracious determination; Willi was used to the tedious perfunction often encountered with other senior partners. Elizabeth was the antithesis - she was a sprite, and her fire seemed to light his own. Darcy argued like he hadn't in years. And now he stood sweaty, with coat strewn over the back of a chair and tie loosened. He loved it. But he hated to admit it.

Spent, seething and flustered, Lizzy sped toward her office, flushed from head to toe. She whipped open her office door and shut it just as fast, outsing her client for some necessary alone time.

"Fuck!" Lizzy exhaled. She whipped her files onto the floor, hands clenching her curvy hips hard enough to bruise. Damned Darcy.

Andrew Crawley knocked on her door, tentatively poking his head through the entrance. "Ms. Bennet? Elizabeth?"

"Yes, Mr. Crawley, enter please. We obviously need to review what just happened." Lizzy countered, waving him in. She subtly fanned herself and pivoted, repinning her hair.

"What do you mean? The deposition seemed fine to me...if a little tense." Andrew eased. "You did a marvelous job dealing with that douche Darcy. I've never seen someone stand up for an evil like Meryton before!"

Lizzy chuckled dryly. "You're kind, Andrew. But that was the furthest thing from fine. William Darcy's argument was crafty and aggressive. I didn't expect it. I wasn't properly prepared to fend off an attack like that."

Andrew gave her a wry smile. "As much as I would like to see Edgar Meryton suffer Ms. Bennet, I wouldn't quite compare this lawsuit to world war II."

Lizzy gave him a soft smile - to calm herself more than anything else. Because to her, this was world war II. And she was fighting to win.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 _Was in a writing mood last night. Had a good sense where I wanted the story to go. Also please forgive my ineptitude with formatting. Figuring out this website is a bit tricky for someone unbelievably bad at dealing with technology. Thanks for your patience!_

San Francisco, however dreary during the day, was a glittering Cirque de Soleil after dark. And Lizzy loved it.

"Elizabeth Bennet! My favorite drunk!" George Wickham cried as Lizzy walked through the door of Charlie's, a rundown bar centrally situated amongst the climbing monoliths of downtown San Francisco. Lizzy was a regular at Charlie's, and was notorious - especially by the bartender George Wickham - for downing tequila like a farmer guzzles hooch. And today especially, Lizzy was in dire need of some kind of alcohol. Even though it was Monday, tomorrow was a corporate retreat, so Lizzy felt no guilt of any kind for getting absolutely wasted. Shrugging off her blazer and purse, she slid onto the bar stool and gave George a coquettish smile.

"And what will it be for you tonight, Missus?" George drawled.

Lizzy arched her brow. "Surprise me."

George gave a low whistle. "You're playing a dangerous game there, Eliza."

Lizzy frowned. She loathed the name Eliza. "Yeah, well I've had a shit day and I need something stronger than some pink drink with a cherry in it."

George, throwing his trademark towel over his shoulder, put his hands up in a sign of defense. "Hey, don't need to tell me twice. Don't worry, I know what you need."

Lizzy relaxed and gifted him with a rare toothy grin. After a minute of studying the grains of the wood on the bartop, Lizzy felt the telltale buzz of her phone. Sighing, she located it in her purse after minimal fumbling, and, recognizing the name across the screen, answered it. "Hello?"

"Lizzy!" Charlotte Lucas cried gleefully.

Lizzy smiled in spite of herself. "Charlotte, how good to hear from you. I do hope Jane isn't driving you up a wall."

Charlotte laughed. "No, no, Jane's fine. We'll actually be there at the end of the week to meet Charles and the wedding planner - Saturday, I think. Oh, you will come won't you?"

Lizzy gave a dramatic sigh. "I suppose. Shouldn't Jane be asking me this herself?"

She could practically hear Charlotte roll her eyes. "I'm her assistant. Besides, you know Jane doesn't care too much for the femininity associated with wedding planning - even less than she understands it as some sacred, sisterly-bonding type shit. Besides, speaking to you is just another perk of all the Starbucks runs."

George slid the shot glass of amber to Lizzy, winking before he tended to another customer a few seats away. Lizzy chuckled, and swallowed the glass's contents in one motion.

"Lizzy. Please do not tell me you are getting wasted at 7 o'clock on a Monday night." Chastised the voice on the phone.

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "Okay, mom."

Charlotte huffed.

"Oh my gosh! I totally forgot!" Lizzy practically shrieked, startling herself as well as the slow crowd filtering into Charlie's. "You'll never guess what happened today!"

Charlotte, completely tuned in, spoke with heavy anticipation - "What? What happened?"

Slightly incapacitated, Lizzy giggled, "Lord Dick is the douche I've been fighting the Crawley case against!"

There were a few seconds of silence before hell broke loose across the Atlantic. "You're joking! You're absolutely fucking with me. There's no way!"

Lizzy shook her head. "No! Believe me, I wish I was. After what he said to me in Paris I was almost positive I would never see him again - neither on accident or purpose. And here we are, two days later, his legal douchety against my prowess."

"Wow… just, wow." Charlotte echoed. "Do you think it's a sign?"'

"A sign of what?" Lizzy cried. "The man is a complete and utter asshole. If you think for one minute that I would ever, under any circumstances, entertain the idea of fucking Mr. Darcy, also known as, HR-Douchiness, than you clearly do not understand the limits to which I will hold a grudge!"

Hearing Darcy's name, George Wickham's ears perked, and he casually moved back to Lizzy's direction under the guise of refilling her drink - which he succinctly did with pleasure.

"You don't have to actually like him," Charlotte appeased. "But that body… I mean, I would do someone I hated if he looked anything like William Darcy."

"I'm not that shallow," Lizzy countered.

Charlotte barked out a laugh. "Please. Elizabeth Bennet, for a lawyer you should have a more convincing argument than that."

Lizzy, disgruntled, quipped, "Well, I'm tipsy and I definitely need to drink more before we can continue this conversation. Call you later, Char."

"Bye Lizzy," Charlotte's voice faded, Elizabeth hanging up the phone before even hearing her friend's response.

Elizabeth looked up to see a refilled glass and the questioning eyes of George Wickham staring down at her. "What?" she muttered suspiciously, again draining the glass in one fell swoop.

George eyed her carefully. "I might've heard you mention William Darcy."

Lizzy arched a brow. "Eavesdropping, are we?"

"No," George casually retorted. "Just a familiar name I happen to have an acquaintance with. Terminated acquaintance, actually."

"Oh." Lizzy replied. Her curiosity was piqued. "Well, you can't quite leave me on a cliffhanger like that, can you?"

George grimaced. "I wouldn't dream of it. Let's just say that the Darcy family royally screwed me over. Big time."

"Darcy? How?" Lizzy inquired.

"Darcy Sr. was like a father to me. My father worked for his firm in London. He put me through university, law school, and promised me a position at a prestigious firm - the man believed in me."

"What happened?" Lizzy pressed.

"Once William's father passed, Will, acting on years of pent up jealousy and anger at my favored position, denied me a position at his own firm and smeared my name and reputation across every National Firm worth working for. Even managed to convince a buddy of his to rid me of my license. Now I do this." George wiped off the counter, feigning contentedness with his life.

Lizzy sucked in a breath. "That's horrible George." Yet, despite her pity for the man, she had some deep-rooted trouble believing him. "Tell you what - you pour me another shot, and I will take you out to dinner so we may curse the name together!"

"Your wish is my command, Miss Bennet," George bowed, slightly, miffed at Lizzy's short-lived pity. He refilled her glass - an action which would be completed five more times by the end of the night.

Charlie's was now packed. The usual weekend crowd celebrating their Tuesday off, by getting just as wasted as they would any Saturday night. The space, although underground and a little dirty, was exactly Lizzy's type of kitschy. The hardwoods were contrasted by electronic lights and a makeshift dance floor in the middle of the room. There was no DJ, just a Spotify list and an iPod that worked just as well - possibly even better.

Lizzy turned back to George and chugged the honey-gold tequila. She took him in before quitting her stool - George Wickham was tall - 6'0 maybe - with blue eyes and a mess of blonde curls. Normally, he was a little too sleazy for her tastes, but with enough desperation, Lizzy would definitely consider it.

Slinking off the bar stool, Lizzy unpinned her quotidian chiffon and unbuttoned the top of her pin-striped blouse, revealing a fair amount of cleavage barely contained by a silk camisole. Slut, rang a voice in the back of her head. Lizzy cringed, but immediately silenced her matronly conscience with a swipe of pink lipstick. She was aware of George's eyes watching her intently, and she smirked, skipping to the dance floor with a slight swing in her hips.

It had been a long time since Charles had laughed this hard.

"Really, Charles, it's not that funny." William Darcy droned, slightly defensive.

"Sorry, Darce," Charles managed to gasp, tears forming in his yes.

Five more minutes passed where Darcy tolerated Charles' guffaws before the latter managed to sober up.

"Really, though… please tell me again how Elizabeth Bennet, the sister of my fiancee, Jane Bennet, whooped your ass." Charles smirked.

William Darcy, rolling his eyes, stood from his chair and stepped towards the door. The pair were currently in Charles' office only two blocks from Darcy's, in an older Victorian home, one of many practices in the area.

"Don't leave Darce," Charles cried, beckoning his friend back to the chair before his desk.

William Darcy stood tall. "Charles, Elizabeth Bennet did not, how did you so eloquently put it? Whoop my ass."

Charles leaned back in his chair and tried to hide his smile.

"You know what I meant," Darcy argued. "Quit teasing me - I said she was competent for an amateur. She has yet to live up to the title of Senior Partner. In fact, I wonder if her compulsively violent attacks are as brutal on her coworkers as they were today."

"Darce, I was only joking. No need to insult the girl. She's not even here to defend herself. And win." Charles bit his cheek but ultimately ended up chortling uncontrollably once again.

"Charles!" Darcy all but barked, ready to rid himself of Bingley's relentless teasing. "When you can control herself again, you can join me and Caroline at Charlie's." William Darcy stalked out the door, Charles, still chuckling, grabbed his trench and stumbled out the door after his friend.

Caroline Bingley met William and Charles outside Charlie's.

"Really, Charles. Charlie's? There's a new bar that just opened downtown… Swish, I think. The DJ there is supposed to be amazing. I'm sure we could get on the list," Caroline Bingley whined.

Darcy had learned to ignore Carolina a long time ago, and tonight was no exception.

Charles rolled his eyes. "Caroline, please. You didn't have to come out with us. We like Charlie's. If you want to run off with Fran to Swoosh, I honestly couldn't care less."

Caroline tightened her purse on her shoulder. "Her name is Francine, Charles, she's my client, thank you very much. And it's called Swish." Caroline replied in a strained voice.

Darcy, in no mood to listen to her complaining any more, pressed on through the doorway, and proceeded straight to the bar.

Charles tailed Darcy closely, and almost slammed straight into him when the latter came to a stand still. Darcy hissed.

"Dammit Will." Upon seeing Will's face, Charles stepped back. "Will? Darce? What's the matter?"

William Darcy practically growled. "He's here. That bastard Wickham. He's here."

"Ignore him, Darcy. Don't let him ruin your night. Go find us a table and I'll deal with the drinks,." Charles soothed.

William Darcy, jaw clenched, waded through the crowd to find an empty table, Caroline hanging on his jacket sleeve.

Charles Bingley squirmed through the hordes to reach the bar.

The bartender - George fucking Wickham of all people - slid over to Charles. "What can I get for you?"

Charles eyed him slowly. "I'll take two Guinnesses and one Manhattan. For my sister," he clarified.

Wickham gave him a cheesy grin and nodded his head, stepping backwards to prepare the drinks.

It was then that Charles noticed a curvy brunette push her way through the line and slam into the bar.

"Elizabeth Bennet?" Charles shouted, the bass of some Beyonce song ringing in his ears.

The brunette turned her head. "Charlie? Charlie Bingley? Oh my god! What are the fucking chances! Welcome to Charlie's!" Lizzy shrieked, obviously heavily inebriated.

Charles chuckled, accepting the drinks promptly placed before him. "Nice to see you too, Elizabeth. I heard you gave Darcy quite the smashing today."

Lizzy threw her head back and laughed heartily. "Mr. Darcy can defend himself quite well, don't let him convince you he can't."

Charles laughed with her until he noticed George's eyes trained straight on Lizzy's chest. Clearing his throat, Charles wrapped an arm around Lizzy and steered her away from the bar, careful not to spill the shot delicately balanced in her hand. He turned to see George's smile faltering slightly before picking back up again, waving at the duo as they trudged back through the crowd.

Charles leaned into Lizzy's ear, shouting, "Come on, Will's here, why don't you two reconcile your differences... at least do it for Jane."

Lizzy whipped from Charles' grasp like he had doused her with boiling water. "Noooo," she sang in a sing-songy voice. "If Mr. Darcy would like to come apologize, then Lord Dick may come dance." She downed her shot and threw the glass on the floor, exploding in giggles and skipping back towards the dance floor.

Charles sighed and proceeded back towards his friends. Handing Darcy and Caroline their respective drinks, Charles struggled how to to relay this new information - but he didn't struggle for long.

Within a minute of Charles sitting down, William Darcy had downed his whole beer. He ignored Caroline's idle chatter and looked out into the bar. The space was big - huge even. The property alone must cost upwards of - oh, hell. Chill, Darcy. It smelled of sweat and scotch, primarily emanating from the rowdy crowd of partiers rubbing up against each other in the center of the room. He felt Caroline wrinkle her nose in disgust, her pores struggling to block out the essence of the middle class.

He studied the crowd a little longer, identifying a majority of the riot to be radiating from one happy girl in particular. Darcy's mouth quirked a little at the corner. At least someone is having fun.

"Darce, you'll never guess -" Charles started.

"Oh fuck." Darcy gasped, crisply cutting him off. Lizzy Bennet. Elizabeth Bennet, a tigress in the office and a pest in his general life, was bouncing around like she was filled with helium. Did trouble seek him out? "Let's leave," he muttered, making to exit.

"Will - no." Charles chastised. "Apologize to her. Now. If you ruin this wedding with your fucking stupidity, than you better start praying because I don't even know what Jane will do -"

"Ok, ok, ok," Will cut him off again. "How the hell am I even supposed to get to her? It's not like she'd remember any apology anyways."

Charles gave him a meaningful glare, and Darcy surrendered. Putting down his empty bottle, he stood from the table and made his way towards Elizabeth, straightening his jacket as he went.

Lizzy was on her way to the bathroom, a baby-faced Italian boy following her closely, when she felt a decisive tap on her shoulder. She swung her body around, stumbling into… what was his name again?

Except it wasn't the boyish, coffee complexion of Anthony (maybe?) - it was a broad chest swathed in a tailored grey suit, a towering hunk of masculinity topped off by thick black curls and piercing eyes staring down a long nose. Darcy.

Lizzy, completely struck dumb and on the precipice of wasted, began to giggle. "Fuck it. Are you following me, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy's eyebrows drew together as he narrowed his eyes. Unsure how to broach the topic with her - particularly this Elizabeth. Her hair was a mass of wild curls and her bright eyes twinkled against the glimmering sweat of her cafe au lait colored skin. His eyes were unconsciously drawn to Lizzy's chest, but he managed to tear them away before she could notice. He cleared his throat. "Ahm...yes...well, I -"

"Out with it Willy!" Lizzy slurred, stumbling in the dark hallway of Charlie's.

Darcy frowned. He despised being called Willy - a fact which Caroline Bingley chose pointedly to ignore in some twisted way of earning his favor. Raising his voice above the thumping treble, he yelled, "I need to talk to you. Let's go somewhere quieter."

Lizzy rolled her eyes but allowed herself to be ushered outside, Darcy's hand on her elbow.

Breaking open the back door, Darcy and Lizzy erupted from the dark hallway into the grungy alleyway between Charlie's and the neighboring building.

"I would like, desperately, to apologize for my prior comments. They were completely out inappropriate, and I hope they in no way affect our work relationship."

Lizzy pouted her lips and crossed her arms, disappointed in her inability to remain steely to Darcy's reminiscence of old feelings. "Well, I hope this isn't your only apology. Because, if so, it's completely lame."

Mr. Darcy raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the gritty brick. "Lame?"

"Yes, lame. I expected something grand. Something worthy. Where are the flowers? Chocolates? Various fuzzy trinkets?" Lizzy simpered, coyly winding a strand of hair around her finger.

Recognizing her tone, Darcy huffed. He was in no mood to be teased, and so he turned to exit.

"Oh don't leave you old prune." Lizzy whined, pulling his sleeve back. "Even though I still think you're an enormous arse, I respect your apology, and I hope you don't cry too hard when I completely demolish you in court." She smiled at the end of her sentence, hoping to elicit a similar reaction from her opponent.

Mr. Darcy nodded and leaned back once more against the surface of the building.

A tense silence filtered in between the pair. Lizzy's vision was spinning and she felt slightly nauseous, but, because Darcy had scared away a possible lover, she still felt desperate for physical fulfillment.

So, under the murky haze of the cloudy night and next to the neon recycling receptacles, Lizzy took two steps forward.

"What are you -" Darcy started, standing up straight with hands still shoved in pockets.

"Shhh." Lizzy shushed him, pleased with Mr. Darcy's immediate obedience.

And, in one swift movement, Lizzy pressed her lips against Darcy's.

Darcy stilled as Lizzy approached him. Her walk was slightly tilted due to her lack of balance. Her eyes were heavily lidded and she smelled like some high-end perfume. Her full lips were slightly swollen and glossed a pinkish tint.

Darcy swallowed unconsciously.

Elizabeth stopped about an inch away and gazed with unfocused pupils into Darcy's eyes. Will stared back until his own inspection felt intrusive. Lizzy closed her eyes, and Darcy steeled himself, prepared to reject her oncoming advances.

But when Lizzy's lips hit his own, soft against the bite of liquor, Darcy closed his eyes and kissed back.

Elizabeth's hands ran up Darcy's silken chest, surfing the planes of toned abs and rigid muscles. He tasted delicious - some mix of ale and spice. Her fingers snaked their way their way around the lapels of his jacket and wound their way into the locks of hair seeping past his collar. She arched her back, pushing her chest into Darcy's, trying earnestly to close any residual space between the two.

The kiss was slow and gentle, rather chaste for a alleyway kiss. Two lips learning the contours of the other's. And when Will felt he had entertained the young Ms. Bennet long enough, he increased his pressure momentarily, signaling the finality of the tryst.

But Lizzy didn't take the hint. She felt Darcy's lips press harder against her own, and she opened her own mouth, inviting him in with a sweep of her tongue. And when she felt Darcy respond with equal passion, his arms enclosed around her, as sure as the dark brick digging into his back. Lizzy felt a tide of warmth seeping through her, the rush of helplessness as she sank into an abyss of lust. Mr. Darcy bent her head back, pulling back briefly to catch his breath before diving in again, kissing her softly at first, and then with a swift gradation of intensity which made Lizzy tug on his hair viciously, holding on as if he was the only constant in an ever-changing world. Elizabeth didn't want to over dramatize the kiss, but, in a single word, it was perfect. Any sloppy intoxication she had felt previously had culminated in a ridiculous giddiness that engulfed her in her own flames. Hours, months, years, passed. Lizzy was lost in time.

But then, a familiar stirring start in her belly, and, breaking the kiss, Lizzy vomited all over Darcy's expensive, leather shoes.

 _Along with grammatical errors, I absolutely despise George Wickham. More than anything. I even considered leaving him out of the story, but I could never do that to Miss Austen. I love my reviewers! xx_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _A/N: First, I am so sorry for the long delay - college is eating me alive! I'll try to do better. Also, To the haters of the vomit: Yes, it is disgusting. But, rather than delving into the completely overbearing, obnoxious nature of Mrs. Bennet (she will be featured just not prominently), I attempted to redeem the restrictions of 19th century propriety with the restrictions of the modern girl - i.e. vomiting from alcohol consumption. I needed some device to make Lizzy embarrassed without the (seemingly) omniscient presence of a Mrs. Fanny Bennet. Also, as steamy as I like a good makeout - it couldn't have gone further than first base for me without some sort of wake up call. Sorry it grossed some of you out._

The morning beams waltzed across Lizzy, whose warm body was wrapped snuggly in the cream plush of a goose-down comforter. Her 8:00 a.m. alarm had gone off ten minutes ago but Lizzy, very much comfortably nestled, had rather bear the growly trill of her alarm than stretch a lone limb out to silence it; but now that time had come whence she had adjusted to the woken world and tasted the bitterness of her morning breath. Clumsily stretching out an arm, Elizabeth silenced the clock with the same finality in which a hunter silences his prey. Rolling out of bed at a glacial pace, Lizzy rubbed her eyes and squinted out her window. Shuffling across the frigid hardwoods, she loitered in the hallway before committing her rambling to the kitchen.

It was Saturday morning - a good two hours before her normal weekend-wake-up time - and Lizzy was thoroughly disoriented. Today marked the fifth morning she had awoken after a night of vividly realistic dreaming. Today also marked the fifth day since her royal fuck up with William Darcy.

When she woke up Tuesday morning - hungover beyond belief - Lizzy discovered 19 new messages and 31 missed calls from Jane. Of course the messages relayed the events of the night before: Lizzy's brashen behavior and general boisterity (no surprise there.) But it was Jane's frenzied deliverance of Lizzy and Mr. Darcy's rendezvous next to the dumpsters by Charlie's - and eventual sickening culmination - that rendered Lizzy speechless; Jane had made no mention of Lizzy's wanton behavior - or Mr. Darcy's response. Instead, Lizzy was left to recall the memory on her own - which of course immediately repulsed her and summoned a wave of nausea. Deciding to divulge some of the dirtier details to her sister later, Lizzy patiently listened while Jane recanted Darcy's chivalrous behavior, before passively agreeing to attend the wedding-planning and issue a formal apology to her 'savior', as well as offer to buy the man a new pair of shoes - as if he didn't possess the means to do so himself.

The rest of her week passed uneventfully. Lizzy submerged herself in board meetings, client conferences, and lonely nights with Campbell's soup. She felt dizzy from the contentious argument within her. Equally embarrassed of projectiling as she was of planting one on her sworn nemesis… _albeit a damn good kisser._

Grabbing a bowl of Cocoa Puffs, Lizzy perched on her couch and turned on the news. Five minutes passed before she flipped the channel to cartoons.

And, at precisely 8:25, Lizzy, fitted in dark-wash skinny jeans and an oversized navy flannel, locked her door and trotted down her front-steps in a pair of beat-up Converse. Glancing at her reflection in a passing car window, Lizzy cringed. The circles under her eyes, while a mesmerizing blue-violet shade, were dark and pronounced. Having not noticed them in her own bathroom, Lizzy had simply thrown her frizzy curls in a loose bun and flicked a little vaseline on her lips. Now, as she planted her feet up the hills of San Francisco, Lizzy regretted her lack of effort… _not that she was trying to_ impress anyone, she told herself, unconsciously balling her hands into rigid fists.

Climbing up the concrete stairs of the brick house before her a good fifteen minutes later, Lizzy glared at the mail slot embellished with Miranda Jones before her. Jane's wedding was precariously placed in the hands of Ms. Jones, an event planner notorious across California for her avant garde and new-age designs. Lizzy found them repulsive and extravagant - and she was pretty sure Jane did as well, yet Miranda came _highly_ recommended viz one Caroline Bingley.

She squared her shoulders and climbed through the doorway. The shrill ding of the entry bell announced Lizzy's arrival. The secretary, a prim 30-something, twisted her face into a smile, her eyes pointedly scrutinizing Lizzy's appearance.

"May I help you?" she sang, her a voice a little too chipper.

Lizzy cleared her throat. "I'm here for a 9 o'clock meeting with Ms. Jones, wedding name Bingley."

The woman peered at Lizzy from underneath her eye-skimming fringe bangs. "Of course. Come with me, please." Her kitten- heels clicked down the hallway in short, determined steps, despite the strictures of her knee-length paneled skirt. The secretary opened a door into a large, bright room, filled with a table, two arm chairs, and a couch. Despite the domestic femininity of the office's facade, the inside was minimalist in a clinical way - as white and pure as a physician's office.

Adjusting her eyes to the light, Lizzy stepped inside. Jane, elegant in a casual ivory suit and perfectly coiffed, was alighted on the pristine white couch listening intently to a woman - Miranda Jones presumably. Charles was sitting next to her, his lanky arm draped around the back of the couch. To his right sat a stick-thin strawberry blonde in spiky-towering heels. Caroline Bingley, Lizzy connected. Across the room Charlotte's petite figure reclined against the oatmeal walls, thumbs flying across her blackberry's keyboard.

Lizzy crept as clandestinely as she could to stand behind the couch, until her grimy sneakers squeaked above the oaken floors beneath. Miranda, a spindly, mousy-haired brunette tucked into a starched cobalt suit, stopped flipping through her binder of swan-themed dresses and feather confections to stretch a clipped smile at Lizzy, the corners of her mouth lifting and falling again before assuming an authentic destination. The occupants of the sofa and Charlotte whipped their heads around to address the newcomer.

"Welcome… you must be Elizabeth, Jane's maid of honor?" Ms. Jones inquired, subtly wrinkling her nose.

"Yes. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jones," Lizzy replied, a wide smile plastered on her face. Lizzy walked over and kissed Jane's cheek. "Sorry."

Jane gave her a reassuring nod and patted Lizzy's hand.

Charles caught Lizzy's eye, and his face unfolded into a broad grin. "Feeling alright, Lizzy?"

Lizzy glared at him but gave him a friendly punch on the arm. "Hello, Charlie." She turned to Caroline. "Hi, you must be Miss Bingley. I'm Elizabeth Bennet."

Caroline Bingley stretched out an icy, red-taloned hand to meet Lizzy's. "Yes, hello."

Lizzy gripped Caroline's hand and gave it a hard shake before sequestering herself to the corner next to Charlotte.

Charlotte Lucas gave Lizzy a quick squeeze, whispering in her ear, "He's outside, taking a call."

Lizzy drew back and gave a small roll of her eyes. "Charlotte, please. I kissed the man while I was violently drunk - that doesn't change the fact that not only is he still a douche, but he also is savagely repulsed by me."

Charlotte shrugged. "You never know."

Lizzy grunted and tried to pay attention to Miranda's chatter, and, despite paying the utmost attention, she ultimately failed to grasp the difference between lavender and lilac.

Some inestimable about of time later - could've been five minutes, could've been five hours - Lizzy was summoned to the tight planning circle.

"Elizabeth, darling, I think you should wear this," Miranda suggested in a demanding tone. Lizzy crinkled her nose. Ms. Jones' freshly-glossed cuticle was pointing viciously at a white pant suit. Seeing Lizzy's reaction, Miranda repressed the urge to roll her eyes and instead gave a minute tsk. "Oh, Elizabeth, menswear is so in, right now. Androgyny is all the rage!"

Lizzy swallowed and looked momentarily into Jane's eyes for help. Jane shrugged and looked back at Miranda. "Yes… well, you see Ms. Jones, as fashionable as a suit might be, I was perfectly complacent to wear a dress. In fact, I'd much rather wear something like this," Lizzy offered up, gesturing to an A-line sheath on the neighboring page.

Miranda narrowed her eyes, and, pointedly roving her eyes up Lizzy's current ensemble, gave a curt, "Well, why don't we let the bride choose?"

Jane leaned back onto the supporting pillows and sighed. "I'm not sure I can decide. I do like the suit - I saw some cute Brandon Maxwell's at Paris last spring - but if Lizzy doesn't, then she should feel free to wear whatever - as long as it's not sweats of course."

Lizzy frowned at Jane's ambivalence - this was her wedding. Her opinions. She crossed her arms. "I will only wear that child of the '80's if the best man wears a dress!"

Charles chuckled, and Charlotte tittered in the corner. Jane gave a slight smile, but Miranda and Caroline looked annoyed - possibly even nauseous - at Lizzy's ignorance

And, as if summoned by the devil himself, the door opened to reveal the towering stature of Mr. Darcy in an emerald green sweater and long khaki trousers. "What's this about the best man?" He quirked an eyebrow, but his face showed little sign of mirth.

Lizzy turned her head back to the pantsuit and tried desperately to calm the raging blush melting up her cheeks. _Stop it. He should be just as embarrassed as you._

Caroline swung her head around to Mr. Darcy's intrusion and practically squealed. "Willie!" she ejaculated. "We picked out the perfect suit for you in your absence… a nice charcoal number."

Mr. Darcy nodded. "As long as there is no dress involved."

"Why not? You'd look dashing in this mauve, strapless number," Charles piped up.

Mr. Darcy glared at him. "Mauve?"

Charles blushed, but rolled his eyes. "Oh come off it, Will… Lizzy was merely joking when she suggested it."

Lizzy froze as she felt eyes turning to her figure, awaiting a snarky response. But Lizzy, slowly lifting her head to meet the incriminating inspection of Mr. Darcy's eyes, could find no response on her tongue. So instead, remaining eye contact with Darcy, whispered a reply to Jane - "I'll wear the pantsuit."

The occupants of the room stayed quiet. Charles' eyebrows went up in disbelief, and Darcy squinted before squatting into an eggplant armchair.

"Perfect." Miranda clapped, studying her flashy wristwatch. "Lizzy and the boys' can both get their suits from Boss on Market Street. There's a floral place nearby that Caroline, Jane, and I can pop into - I of course will pop in to oversee the fittings, but there should be no problem."

Charlotte emerged from her corner and entered Miranda's peripheral vision as the group filtered out of the building. "Oh, yes, you… you can go with whomever," Miranda announced, peering over her red-lensed glasses and flicking her wrist in some miscellaneous direction.

Charlotte nodded her head. "Right." She glanced at Lizzy, who was staring back at her with large, imploring eyes. "I'll go with Jane."

Lizzy, infuriated by her friend's betrayal, flared her nostrils but said nothing. Charlotte noticed the subtlety and smirked. _Maybe some alone time with Darcy will do her good… and she can apologize._

Somehow, Lizzy, though she preferred to walk, was convinced by Jane to accompany Mr. Darcy and Caroline to Market Street. So Lizzy sat still in the back of Darcy's porsche while Caroline mindlessly chattered in the front, flipping radio stations.

"Which station, Will?" Caroline simpered, leaning over the center console, her chin resting on her elbow.

Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. "NPR, please."

Caroline scoffed mockingly. "So serious, Will." Instead she fixed the radio to rest on some perversion of music. "This is EDM." She announced to her ignorant audience. "It's all the rage. I have some clients who go to festivals and such."

Will, stopping at a light, peered in the rear view mirror, making contact with Lizzy's stoic expression. "What about you, Elizabeth? NPR or ...whatever this is?"

Lizzy glanced at her fingernails for a second before raising her head again. "I like classic rock. Petty. Simon. I also like jazz… and NPR I suppose. Pretty much anything but this."

Darcy's mouth twitched, and he refocused his eyes on the road.

Caroline tilted her head, putting on her smile before turning around. "Oh, Eliza! You must come visit a concert with me sometime. Everybody there knows good music!" She then proceeded to turn the volume up, signaling the finality of conversation and preventing Lizzy from squeezing in a jab.

Lizzy ground her teeth and stared out the window. Charles's sister. Charles's sister. She pulled her phone out of her bag and shot Charlotte a text: _Get ready to buy me a beer and a burger._

Charlotte replied swiftly: _Please. I'm sitting next to the ginger shrew who can't comprehend my existence._ _Apologize to Darcy._

Lizzy sucked in a breath, sending, _"Who says I have to apologize first? And for what?_ " before chucking her phone back in her bag, not bothering to read the response.

The trio arrived at Boss mere minutes after the others. Splitting up, Lizzy, Charles, Miranda, and Darcy entered the heavily-ventilated store. Miranda walked up to the black-clothed figure manning the desk and promptly ushered them into the back of the shop, effortlessly gliding past the maze of silk and linen.

After shuffling through racks of various suits, Miranda pushed the white pantsuit into Lizzy's arms. "This should fit you… if it doesn't I can look for different sizes." She repeated her swift declaration with the men before sending the trio off to dressing rooms.

Lizzy grimaced and entered the changing room. Tearing her clothes off, Lizzy tugged her limbs into their respective sleeves until she was completely attired. Something was wrong.

"Miranda." Lizzy whispered to the redhead standing a few feet away. No response. Lizzy glanced around before hissing,"Miranda!" The addressed shot her head up and turned around. She walked briskly to the headless face summoning her from behind the velvet curtain.

"Is something wrong, Elizabeth?"

"Um, yes. I need some sort of under shirt I think?" Lizzy questioned, a puzzled look gracing her features.

"Oh, no, no no," Miranda replied, sliding her thin lips into a condescending smile like Lizzy had missed something obvious. "It's not a three piece."

"Oh." Lizzy frowned.

"Well, come out then. We need to make alterations if possible." Miranda dictated, turning to grab a pair of white stilettos out of thin air. She presented them to Lizzy, who clumsily slipped her feet inside before trotting out.

Stumbling before the three length mirror Lizzy furrowed her brow. The suit was more flattering than she had previously imagined - it was simple but classic. She was satisfied with her appearance, but her initial grudge prompted her to hide her true impression. Lizzy stood before the mirror a while longer, her gaze moving from her own figure to the reflection of pedestrians passing the main shopping stretch.

"Hmm," came a sharp sigh, gently jostling Lizzy from her observation. Miranda squinted her eyes, standing before Lizzy, who did her best to avoid the scrutinizing gaze of the wedding planner but could not contain her yelp when the latter yanked her hair out of its messy bun, the freed curls springing in every direction.

"I want you to deep condition this," Miranda began, gesturing to the heap of brown coiling from Lizzy's scalp, "at least twice a week until the wedding."

Lizzy winced. "What about the suit?"

"Oh, yes, yes, it will do." Miranda walked away then, as Charles and Will stepped out of their own rooms. Lizzy glanced at her reflection in the mirror a little more before she felt her vanity quota sated.

She turned around and fiercely gripped the gasp threatening to escape. Will Darcy had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. _He must get used to it - that sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. Of course the blush that accompanied it was a dead give-away. The tousled black of his hair practically melted into the onyx of the jacket, each inch of the cloth caressing the nooks and crannies of Will's body like a mother tucks her son into bed._

Mr. Darcy was in a similar mindset; he watched Elizabeth twist her body around in the white piece, the folds of the suit enfolding each curve of her body like a snug glove. The deep-V of the jacket revealed a considerable amount of her chest, pushed together in a hug by the strong arms of the cream lapels. Her honey skin and bountiful toffee curls were a rich contrast to the starkness of her suit. It was a good look, to say the least. _And the blush under her downcast eyes was a giveaway._

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth started. "I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to talk since that night at the bar. I was awfully drunk, and I'm not sure exactly what came over me. I promise it won't happen again - I don't plan to make puking on mutual friends a habit," she blushed and hid her eyes from the inquisitive stare of William Darcy.

Mr. Darcy was taken aback. "Of course. It was an unfortunate mistake. I should never have reciprocated your advances."

Lizzy felt something stir within her, and her eyes turned cold. She nodded her head. "Right. We should keep our relationship as professional as possible. Besides the wedding of course… I suppose we'll have to walk down the aisle together. Do you think you can manage that, Mr. Darcy, with a drunk as barely tolerable as myself?"

Darcy flared his nostrils and clenched his jaw. What is she trying to do.

The two stood in a tense silence, Lizzy turning back around to reexamine her reflection in the mirror, only stopping her primping when she felt Darcy's eyes on her. Quickly, her eyes flashed to a disturbance in the back. Lizzy spun around, Darcy doing the same - only in a much more dignified manner.

"Miranda this is a MONSTROSITY. I will not be wearing this." came Charlie's loud voice. His face was beet red, highlighting the ginger flakes speckled throughout his hair.

Lizzy stifled a giggle, covering her mouth with her hand - but it wasn't good enough.

Darcy turned to see Elizabeth doubling over in laughter, tears forming in her eyes. He turned back to Charles and chuckled in spite of himself.

Charlie whipped his head and stared at the giggling duo, his face a bright cherry red against the baby blue of his satin suit. It was single-breasted, with one lapel crossing over the second one, and large pockets lining the left side of his chest. It was, indubitably, a woman's suit.

His fiery glare simmered, and the easy lines surrounding his cheery eyes hinted at an approaching smile. But the thought was quickly eradicated as Charles turned and stalked back into his dressing room, whipping the scarlet curtain close with finality.

Eight hours and a most unbearable car ride later, Lizzy, shopping bags in hand, slid onto the plush stool squatting pleasantly before the bartop of Charlie's. She huffed out a sigh and plopped her chin on crossed arms, jutting out her lower lip.

Lizzy's pouty behavior was only a facade put on for the entertainment of one Georgia Wickham.

And George did notice. Slinging the trademark washcloth over his shoulder, George sidled nonchalantly up to his new customer. He flashed a smile he thought genuine.

"And what can I do for you tonight, Miss Elizabeth?"

Lizzy, head still down, peered at the bartender from underneath heavy lids. "Guinness."

"On the house," George winked and backed away. _Damn. That girl is one hot piece of ass. Maybe…_

Lizzy, completely unaware of her friend's lurid thoughts, was aware of her flirty nature and used it to her advantage. To get free drinks mostly.

George came back shortly with her bottle. "So… how long until I can take you on that dinner we talked about?"

Lizzy wrapped her lips around the bottle and sipped slowly, avoiding the smirking glance of the inquirer. Wow, this guy is persistent. "Why don't we start… here? Two burgers? And a fifteen minute break for the bartender?"

George smiled easily. "Sure."

Lizzy gave him a slightly hesitant smile before nodding. "I'll grab us a booth."

Charlie's was relatively empty for 8:00 p.m. on a Saturday night, so Lizzy easily grabbed a wooden booth situated in the back corner. She checked her phone as it buzzed with a text from Jane: _Wine tasting tomorrow in Napa? Meet at 12?_

Lizzy furrowed her brow. _How am I supposed to get there? Can I ride with you?_

Jane replied quickly. _We are taking Charles's roadster. Caroline is riding in the back. I think Will has an empty seat?_

Lizzy typed a reply furiously. _Fuck NO_. She groaned and tossed her head back, thrusting her phone in her purse as George glided out from the kitchen and across the bar.

George slid into the booth, laying Lizzy's filled plate before her. She took a bite into the juicy meat before her, and moaned involuntarily.

George smirked. "Good burger, hmm?" He chuckled.

And Lizzy, feeling slightly violated by the empty blue eyes before her, swallowed her bite queasily. "So… why exactly did you want to have dinner with me?" she tossed up.

George leaned back and tilted his head. "I think we'd be a good fit… in a lot of ways," he added.

Lizzy almost gagged. _Is that innuendo?_

"What's up with the sister?" George pried, mouth full of some mustard-beef fusion.

"Wedding planning, a.k.a. a definite contradiction of the eighth amendment," Lizzy rolled her eyes.

George nodded. "Sounds awful, especially with a sister like Jane."

Lizzy's glance contorted.

Realizing his faux pas, George backed up, "I mean, you know - big model, high maintenance."

"Oh. Right." Lizzy stared at her plate. They sat in silence, Lizzy sensing that George clearly had an itching question, but giving him no opportunity to ask it. George, however, evidently felt no need to wait for an invitation.

"So, is that bloke Darcy in the wedding?" George pried with eyes fixated on the few fries left on his plate.

"Um, yeah," Lizzy answered cautiously. "And I know what you told me about him, and as awful as that is, I think I took care of that revenge for you."

"Oh yeah?" George raised an eyebrow, "How's that?"

Lizzy half-laughed. "Funny story actually. The other night - the one where I was completely wasted - I kind of threw up all over his shoes."

George froze before erupting into loud laughter. "That's brilliant, Lizzy job well done!"

Lizzy smiled in spite of herself, before frowning slightly. "Though, now we have to ride for a good two hours tomorrow, and considering how stuck-up the man was before, it's even more unbelievably awkward now. Especially after…" she trailed off, lost in her own thought.

George stuffed more fries in his mouth. "After what?"

"Oh, before I puked all over his shoes, I kind of kissed Darcy. Not that I remember much from my totally drunken state of course."

George paused and ran a hand through his floppy, Bieber Esque blonde hair. "You're joking."

"No, actually I'm not," Lizzy stated, trying to keep the mood light.

"Know what - it looks like my boss wants me to man the bar again. 'Night Lizzy - maybe we can do this some other time."

Lizzy threw a fry on her plate and wiped her hands together. _I'm not his girlfriend. Why the hell is he being weird? Whatever, I got a burger and a beer out of it._ She gathered her bags and marched out the door, not bothering to care about the bartender making eyes at a perky blonde who had just settled onto Lizzy's stool. She gritted her teeth: bags in hand and not nearly drunk enough.

Sometime later, Lizzy perched in a large t-shirt and blue cotton underwear before her bathroom's vanity. She washed her face and brushed her teeth perfunctorily, eyes never leaving her own appearance. Her face, makeup-free, was sallow and weary, and her eyes were slightly dull. She pulled her curls, frizzy and scentless, from the tight bun and let them bounce down her spine.

Lizzy shuffled into her still unmade bed, still as inviting and warm as it was that morning. Golden Girls played tiredly on the TV before her, and Lizzy fanned out several documents concerning her caseload before her. She highlighted about a paragraph before throwing her body back on the thin, sagging pillow that had cradled her head for the past decade. Lizzy fell into an odd sleep - half conscious, half awake, bedside lamp still alight and various legal papers still covering her bed. Because Lizzy's state of unconsciousness reflected her reality: indecisiveness in the physical attraction of both Darcy and George diluted by their respective personalities. George - as skeevy as he was - had never outright insulted Lizzy, and the night's disastrous date was hopefully some result of nerves or misunderstanding. But Darcy - Darcy was an enigma wrapped in a mystery hidden in some puzzle. Did he deserve her time?

She didn't know.

For the first time in her life, Lizzy didn't know anything.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

William Darcy squinted. The sun was bright today, as if some caper in the night had lifted the seemingly eternal cloak of grey. It was 7:30 a.m. on Sunday morning, and Will was walking from the lobby of Pemberley, Andrews, & Oxford to the navy sheen of his car parked in its usual space in the neighboring lot. Pulling a navy baseball cap over his wild curls, Will slid into the seat, pushing the ignition and pulling suavely out of the lot. He hit his first red light and yawned; starting work at 5:00 am on a Sunday was no irregular occurrence, and the dark skies of pre-dawn San Francisco was a temperamental friend. William Darcy was all work - he lived for it because he loved it, and, although his current case was a trying one - Elizabeth Bennet not excluded - Will yearned for the challenge.

Will pulled up in front of Elizabeth's house, a regal brownstone not far from her office. _I seem to be spending a lot of time with this woman...not that I mind._

Inside her house, Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy's shiny car pull up. She huffed a sigh, and, heaving her overnight bag, opened her front door to the bright rays of the morning sun. Slightly dazed by the unexpected sunshine, she blinked twice before the vague shapes of the outdoors focused. Lizzy pulled her door shut and strolled down the brick walkway to the passenger door of Mr. Darcy's car. Here we go. Her insides were in turmoil. Stop freaking out.

"You can put your bag, back here," the deep baritone called from the rear. Lizzy whipped her head to the left and, spotting a tall navy-capped head, and toted her bag to the voice beckoning to her from the now-raised trunk.

"Good morning, Mr. Darcy," Lizzy trilled to the broad chest before her. She shoved her tote into his expansive trunk and lifted her eyes to Will's. His levi's and grey hoodie were surprisingly casual, but, even with a face in shadow, Lizzy saw nothing but strict formality in his expression.

"And to you, Miss Bennet," he responded solemnly, shutting the trunk close and returning to his captain's chair.

Will and Lizzy took off, Will a menacing picture of authority - one hand guiding the sleek leather wheel, the other fisted around the gear-shifter.

Lizzy stared out the window as the duo emerged onto an endless highway from the cosmopolitan of their home. The brightness of the sun swam through Lizzy's window, as the familiar twang of a lead guitar on low volume filtered through the car. The familiar chords of Tom Petty's American Girl glided through Darcy's sound system, and Lizzy's hands compulsively drummed out a beat.

William Darcy was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable since Lizzy had opened her front door in a baby pink linen dress that fell a couple inches above her knee. And, although he had seen Lizzy dolled up in a slinky yellow dress - reminiscent of a tall glass of champagne, it was the 8 a.m. sun beams sieving through thick curls upon a fresh face that was most attractive. Thus, it was this headspace that Will was trapped in as he sped 10 miles per hour above the posted speed limit. So, it was approximately thirty seconds before William was alerted to a rhythmic tapping of fingers on bare skin, Lizzy's hands drumming away as she stared blankly out her window. Will's smirk, although miniscule, was momentarily visible as he cranked the volume.

Petty's voice crescendoed, waking Lizzy from her reverie. She looked towards the stereo system and up to Mr. Darcy. "Thanks."

He nodded his acknowledgement but didn't turn his head.

The song progressed, Lizzy feeling slightly awkward to the new insight Darcy had gained. And, when it finished, she looked twisted her body towards him.

"So Mr. Darcy… what shall we discuss - work, religion, or politics? Unless of course, you decide it best we remain taciturn for the remainder of the drive?" Lizzy proffered into the still air.

Darcy squinted infinitesimally, and opened his mouth before closing it again. "Of the three, I would assume work to be the least contrary."

He turned slightly in his seat. "How long have you been a Petty fan?"

Lizzy was taken aback by his inquiry. "All my life I guess… Jane's worse than I am - a Black Sabbath addict from day one. Of course she'd never admit it. How about you?"

"I've always like Petty. The Cure is my favorite I suppose."

Lizzy made a sound of disgust. "The Cure? I guess it makes sense… I should've pegged you for a fan of faux-moody-psyche-meddling music."

Darcy furrowed his brows. "Do you make it a point to insult me?"

Lizzy turned in her seat and gave him a wry smile. "Of course not, Mr. Darcy - do you think me so immature? Besides - I'm afraid any fan of The Cure is taunted solely by taste itself."

Darcy scowled slightly; Lizzy's teasing was unsettling. The sun climbed higher in the sky as the clock approached 8:30 a.m. - ninety more minutes until Napa. The highway stretched out before him, flat, static, and monochromatic. Darcy reached for a skewn pair of sunglasses and placed them carefully on the bridge of his nose, zeroing in on the road, intent on ignoring the voluptuous Venus Esque bust next to him.

Lizzy, all too aware of Darcy's disgruntled silence following her jests, observed as his knuckles whitened. Mr. Darcy put on a pair of shiny black aviators, hiding the tantalizing depth of his eyes underneath long lashes. Douche. Why can't this brute of a man take my jokes? Instead he has to hide behind the suave of his luxury. Looks like I have another hour or two to get under his skin...

Lizzy glanced out the window at the fleeting scenery, and, at an almost infinitesimal volume, began singing "I would say I'm sorry... If I thought it would change your mind." She paused briefly as she felt Mr. Darcy twitch.

She continued. "But I know that this time...I have said too much...Been too unkind."

William Darcy stiffened, trying in earnest to maintain a casual posture. Elizabeth's voice, while not perfectly pitched, was husky and gruff. Not to mention she was singing one of his favorite Cure songs...

He cleared his throat. "Tell me, Elizabeth. Do you often judge others so viciously, solely on their band choice?"

Lizzy laughed, a tinkling giggle that rang out. "Of course not. I prefer to judge them on all levels - music just remains a priority."

"So now you must tell me your own interests so I may judge you in turn."

"What would you like to know?"

"Favorite Book?"

"Hmm. The Garden of Good and Evil."

"Favorite Movie?"

"Rocky IV. Or Vertigo."

Darcy frowned. "Of all the Rocky's - nevermind... Where did you grow up?"

"On a ranch just outside of Palo Alto. My dad teaches at Stanford and my mom is a homemaker."

"Siblings?"

"Four sisters - Jane, and three others. Two are in college. One in highschool."

Darcy nodded, subtly hesitating before asking his next question: "How long have you known George Wickham?"

Lizzy stared at Mr. Darcy, but could find no trace of expression under his guise. Nice transition. She answered slowly, "I guess as long as I've worked at the firm… I suppose a year or so. I went to Charlie's in my college days as well, when I visited Jane."

Darcy's fist clenched noticeably on the steering wheel. And, eyeing it, Lizzy attempted to lighten the mood.

"Do you have enough to form an opinion of me now? Do you want my GPA? Minors? Majors? Diary entries?" Lizzy poked at him.

"Alcohol tolerance?" He supplied.

"Hey!" Lizzy laughed loud this time and punched her driver in the arm - not failing to notice the hard rock of his bicep.

Darcy smiled briefly, and Lizzy's curiosity was piqued.

"So how about you? Favorite book?"

"Sons and Lovers."

Lizzy balked. "Scandalous!" She laughed again. "Favorite movie?"

"Psycho."

Lizzy warmed inside. Hitchcock? A kindred spirit perhaps? "Where are you from?"

"Based in Manhattan… I spent a lot of my childhood in New Haven though."

Lizzy broached the topic carefully: "Family?"

"I have a younger sister. Georgiana. You'll see her at the wedding."

"What about your parents?"

Darcy's stone-cold front seemed to add another brick or two. "Not of consequence." He didn't expound on his answer.

Lizzy took the cue and sat back in her seat, studying the man before her - a man just as complex, possibly even more so than before, with this new information. A good fifteen minutes passed with no word spoken, exhales barely audible over mutual silence. Lizzy's phone buzzed - finally - with a text from Jane: _What's your e.t.a.? It's gorgeous out here - hope the ride is going well ;)" Lizzy rolled her eyes and typed a quick reply: 10:00 a.m. Barely tolerable. She laughed silently at her own joke, knowing Jane wouldn't understand it._

I'd like for Georgiana and Lizzy to meet. Darcy pondered quietly. His arm tingled slightly from where Lizzy had lovingly punched it moments before.

Around 9:00 a.m. Darcy saw a billboard point towards a gas exit. "Do you want to grab a bite?"

"Sure," Lizzy replied demurely.

Darcy pulled his Cayenne into the Exxon station, the Pacific Ocean visible from his perch at station 9.

Lizzy opened her door, and, wrapping her arms around herself to combat the unruly winds of the west coast, rambled aimlessly towards the salty-ocean air. The fierce breeze whipped her curls, and she lifted her face to the sunshine, hoping to soak in the rays before another sixty minutes spent stationed behind the leather dashboard. She stood on the edge of the concrete of the gas station. Lizzy closed her eyes, running a hand through her hair and let the soft cries of a nearby flock draw her closer into the Pacific.

Darcy put the pump into the car, running his credit card through the slot. He turned his head, the crashing waves of the ocean a backdrop to Lizzy's curvy figure. The baby pink of her thin dress danced in contrast to her olive skin. _Shake it off, Will… why are you letting this girl get to you?_ An inestimable amount of time lapsed before Will realized the gas had quit pumping some time ago. He jerked the pump from his car and closed the gas cap, shouting Lizzy's name into the wind.

Somewhere in the air, Lizzy heard her name be called, and, even though she ignored its echo the first few minutes, she eventually yanked herself away from her private communion and skip-walked her way into the building towards Darcy's tall-retreating figure.

The pair exited the vented convenience store minutes later - Lizzy with a bag of cheesy doritos and a coke, Darcy with a smartwater and trail mix. They boarded Darcy's car and took off down the highway. Lizzy crinkled open her bag of chips and turned on the radio, the lull of the mid-morning news trickling through the car.

Lizzy licked the cheese dust off her fingers. "So, Mr. Darcy. Tell me this- why would an honest - assumingly - good, man like yourself represent Mr. Meryton?"

Darcy cocked his head slightly. "You want to discuss work?"

"Less work, more a question of morals." Lizzy replied, crunching noisily on a chip. "Think of it as a clinical evaluation."

Darcy paused. "Edgar is an old friend of my father's… representing him is a formality, for the most part."

"Do you mean to say that you don't agree with the morals upon which you try to win?" Lizzy combatted, her message laced in a teasing tone.

"No. I do believe in Edgar's case. I believe it can win." Darcy replied succinctly. He uncapped his Smartwater, briefly steering with his knees.

Lizzy tilted her head. "Do you want to know my opinion?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll give it to me anyway." Darcy turned his head and make eye contact with Elizabeth for the first time that morning. Her eyes were shining that way they did when she felt a good argument coming on.

"I think his case contemptible, and I don't care how many zeros follow Meryton & Sons - it doesn't seem redeemable." Lizzy sat back in her seat.

"You're an outsider - not away of all the whole story besides the legal facts - yet you judge."

"I don't need to know any more - Andrew Crawley deserves compensation."

"Is being self righteous a prerequisite for the advocate of the underdog?"

"Does being a successful lawyer warrant total apathy to the plights of the needy?"

Lizzy and Darcy stared at each other, gloves off and eyes blazing. Will could practically feel Lizzy throbbing to continue their bicker, but he paid no heed.

A couple minutes passed. Lizzy was the first to turn back to the road, an eager hand reaching back into the back of Doritos. Darcy stared at her profile a second longer, studying the dark of her eyelashes and the slope of her nose as it fell to pouty lips.

He sighed and refocused on the road. 9:30 a.m. Thirty more minutes. He turned the radio until he found a station playing Van Morrison; Lizzy turned a corner of her mouth. Compromise.

Half an hour later, a sleek Porsche emerged from the vineyards before the sleek stone of the Calistoga Ranch. A most handsome couple emerged from the SUV, greeted by an equally good-looking pair.

Jane embraced the unseasonably warm weather in a backless top and miniskirt, her honey blonde hair swept off her neck. Charles, too, exuded summer in a casual white polo and khakis.

The sisters kissed each other and entered the lobby arm-in-arm.

"Lizzy - I'm so glad you could make it last minute. I just had this thought before I left for New York that Napa would be such a perfect setting for the ceremony. So romantic, don't you think?"

"Plenty of wine too."

Jane laughed. "You're such a drunk."

"Well, now I'm sober," Lizzy whined. "And I desperately need alcohol after that all-too miserable car ride."

Jane pouted her lips. "Oh poor little Lizzy. Forced to ride with the nice man in the fancy car. Come on, let's get mojitos - you can tell me all about the torture of your car ride with stiff."

Lizzy's laugh reverberated across the lobby as Jane dragged her towards the bar.

Charles and William followed the giggling girls into the bar, the former clapping his friend on the back. "I'm glad you could find the time to take off work for this."

Darcy looked at his friend. "Yes, well… my fight for the greedy, oiled aristocracy will have to wait until tomorrow."

Charlie started with confusion, but Darcy cut him off with a shake of his head as they approached the Bennet sisters perching at the bar.

Jane looked up at Charles - "I thought we'd ride out to lunch. It's a beautiful day."

"Mmm, yes. That sounds perfect," Charles replied, kissing Jane softly on the lips.

Lizzy rolled her eyes and looked to William. "Mr. Darcy, how do you feel about public display of affection?"

"Revolting, for the most part." He took a sip of his soda.

Charles pried his lips from Jane's; "Shut up."

Lizzy laughed and finished off her drink. "Do you ride?"

"I do. Not extremely well, but I can hold my own," Darcy monotoned in return.

"It's a race, then," she quirked an eyebrow. "Come on, Jane, let's change."

Elizabeth stood before the mirror in her room, tying her knotty hair into a french braid. "I thought you said Caroline was coming today? Is she not here yet?"

Jane strode out of the bathroom, leaning against the doorway with arms crossed. "She actually got here an hour before you two. I mentioned riding, but she was already at the pool before I could finish my sentence."

Elizabeth snorted. "That girl is so incredibly high maintenance… are you sure you really want to marry into that crazy?"

Jane gave Lizzy a meaningful glance. "Is this a method of coercion? Trying to get me out before it's too late?"

"Jane, dear. You know I love Charles - but, I just can't help but thinking… you've only dated two guys. I mean, do you ever think you're rushing into things?"

Jane gave a short laugh and sat on the bed. "Honey, I'm 26 - I'm not exactly a vestal virgin settling for marriage. Besides - my career's practically over… I'm ready to stay in one place for a while. Especially with Charlie."

Lizzy looked to her sister reclining nonchalantly on the quilted mattress of the hotel, flipping casually through some magazine. She walked over and sat on the bed opposite. "What do you mean 'your career's almost over'? You're 26, you just said it yourself."

"Lizzy, you know as well as I do that 26 is well past the prime for any model. And that's ok." Jane looked up and touched Lizzy's hand. "Maybe I can go back to school or be a consultant or work with Caroline. I don't know. I always regretted not finishing high school. I mean look at you - successful lawyer, family favorite… you were hired straight out of grad school for crying out loud. All I did was go to a casting call and the thought of college became just - totally - obsolete."

"Jane Bennet! You won't be a Bennet for long, but you're one for now, and you sure as hell better start acting like it. You've been on Vogue - you've met celebrities… yes, maybe in twenty years you'll get an anniversary cover or someone will offer you a deal to sell Botox on the shopping channel, but for now you're a young, beautiful girl about to marry a sweet - if sometimes silly - man… So, enough of this fucking nostalgia!"

` Jane laughed and rubbed Lizzy's shoulder. "Lizzy Bennet. What would we do without you?"

Lizzy grinned. "Come on blondie. I've got a race to win."

She pulled the statuesque blonde from the duvet and through the door.

William and Charles stood in the lobby of the Ranch outfitted in long jeans and flannel shirts.

"The girls should be down soon, and the instructor should get here any minute." Charles glanced at his watch.

"Instructor?" Darcy gave a slight hmph. "Charles we've both been riding since we were seven…"

Charles looked at his friend. "Will, please. Try and come down to earth for just a moment - this is just for fun, not sport."

Darcy straightened his shirt. "I guess it doesn't matter… you'll lose either way." He gave Charles a sly smile.

His friend laughed loudly just as a curvy brunette and tall blonde got off the elevator.

"What are you two laughing about?" Jane planted a smacking smooch on her fiance and proceeded to whisper in his ear.

"Ugh." Lizzy made a noise of disgust and turned away from the happy couple. She gave Darcy a coy grin. "I hope you won't go too hard on me… I probably don't ride as rough as you do."

Darcy swallowed, clenching his jaw at her innuendo. "Something tells me Miss Bennet that you are quite the expert rider."

Lizzy smirked and turned to the sound of footsteps approaching their circle. Lizzy's jaw dropped; before her stood a gorgeous man, fair with strawberry blonde hair, in tight ecru riding pants and an ebullient smile.

"Hello, I'm Dennis. I believe I'm leading you all on the North Vineyard Trail for lunch, am I not?"

"Yes, I believe you are. I'm Lizzy, this is my sister Jane, her fiance Charles" - she gestured to the embracing couple, "and this is William Darcy." Lizzy fluttered her lashes slightly and gave him a warm smile.

Dennis smiled back. "Yes, it's so nice to meet you all. Let's ride shall we?" He opened his arm, letting Lizzy proceed first, and placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her towards the door.

Jane and Charles followed, the latter's arm draped loosely around his fiance's waist.

Will took up the rear, taking a deep breath as he followed his troupe.

Fifteen minutes into the ride and Lizzy had just barely taken a lead over Mr. Darcy. As soon as she had climbed aboard her cream-colored mare, Lizzy had been buzzing with energy, fisting the ropes of the reigns as she fought through chronic impatience during Dennis's perfunctory safety speech. Almost immediately, Lizzy and Darcy had started out neck and neck - ignoring Dennis's previous instructions to set the horses on a amiable trot. Jane and Charles were moving at a glacial pace - due in majority to their inane need to hold hands while riding. Dennis took up conversation with the couple, situated comfortably as an intermediary between the lovebirds and the self-proclaimed jockeys. Darcy, who had had a slight edge over Lizzy, chivalrously gave up his first place position when his black-speckled beast had stopped for water.

Thus, Lizzy remained alone in first place for quite some time. And though she suffered the void of solitude, her pride did not allow her to wait the rest of her cadre. Instead, Lizzy's horse cantered through the trail quickly, but with the flighty speed of absolute abandon. She shot through the tree-covered trail with a smile on her face and a giddy laugh stuck in her throat, fighting against the onslaught of wind to erupt.

As she reached the end of the trail, Lizzy came to stand at the crest of the valley's Northern Vineyard, marvelling at the crisp noon sun as it reflected upon the uniform grape plants rising from the ground. From the dense trees from which she had emerged, was the opening up of a bright world. It was the drunk man's army; a cavalry of berries standing at attention, primed to inebriate at a moment's notice. She shielded her eyes and let the wind whip around her. At the sound of steps Lizzy turned around, her appreciative stare creeping up the imposing sight of a broad-shouldered man atop an equally impressive steed.

"Looks as though I've won Mr. Darcy," Lizzy proclaimed triumphantly. The two disembarked their horses and tied their reins to a nearby tree.

"Only by default of course." Mr. Darcy looked out into the vineyard, squinting in the bright sunlight. Lizzy came to stand by William's side, the pair lost in the hazy lull of noon heat. She smiled at his response.

A good fifteen minutes passed before the rest of the party arrived, distracted by buoyant conversation. They parked their horses next to Lizzy and Darcy's and joined the duo.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Denny gestured to the sweeping overlook. Charles and Jane nodded, both taking note of their friends' silence.

Denny looked to Elizabeth. "So, who was our victor?"

Lizzy gave him a toothy grin, "I was of course."

Denny laughed. "I should've guessed."

Charles looked to his friend - "Met your match have you, Darce?"

Mr. Darcy looked uncomfortable. "It was, of course, not a win based on merit… my horse seemed to have a pressing need to spend a good amount of time at the stream just before the bend."

"Ah, yes… Desdemona is a rather stubborn beast - I don't try and argue when she gets hungry... " Denny looked to Darcy's speckled horse grazing softly underneath the tree. "Speaking of - shall we eat?"

"Yes!" Lizzy exclaimed, giving a resounding shake of her head. Jane laughed.

"Great." Denny clapped his hands together and pulled several wrapped sandwiches from a bag hanging from his saddle. "Help me, would you Miss Bennet?"

Lizzy happily sidled up to the instructor.

Darcy looked around him, slightly taken aback not only by the majesty of his surroundings, but also by the discomfort of his loss. He looked to Jane and Charles, standing back to chest before the fence barring them from the drop-off. Deciding not to intrude on their private sphere, Will looked back to Lizzy. Her head was thrown back in laughter, mane of curls wound into a tight french braid. He shifted slightly as Lizzy brushed Denny's arm, the two standing intimately close as they prepared lunch. Darcy looked back to the scenery and, for the first time in his life, knew not what to make of the turmoil within him.

The quintet arrived back at the stables in an amiable fashion: Lizzy, of course, at the lead, talking animatedly with Denny with William Darcy trailing slowly beyond the pair, a couple feet in front of Jane and Charles.

"Lizzy seems to be getting on with Denny, well," Charles nodded. Jane looked ahead to the strolling pair.

"Yes...though you know it doesn't take much for her to strike up a conversation with anyone - much less a man."

Charles frowned. "I had hoped she and Darce would've been on better terms by now. Perhaps it was a little cruel to force them to spend time together even after finding out they're working the same case…"

"They both have hard heads. I'm sure once they can get over their each egos they'd get along - though it wouldn't hurt if William was a little nicer. Maybe you could say something."

Charles snorted. "I think I'd rather catch a greased pig."

Jane laughed, a high pitched tinkle.

By the time evening rolled around, Lizzy had soaked thoroughly in a lemon-lavender bath and stretched out the deep-set aches in her legs after her first ride in years. Jane lounged languidly on the bed in a terry robe and towel turban perching precariously upon the crown of her heads, alternating casually between E! News and CNN.

Lizzy sat on the bed opposite in a peach slip, rubbing down her freshly-shaved legs with thick globs of coconut oil.

"How do you feel about dinner?" Jane sighed.

"How do you feel about room-service?"

Jane gave her an exasperated look.

"What?" Lizzy cried defensively. "I spent all day yesterday trying on a suit for your wedding. I'm taking off tomorrow morning for work so I can help you scout this hotel…I don't even have anything to wear."

Jane gave her a look, and Lizzy stared back, narrowing her eyes.

Thirty minutes later Lizzy stood before the skinny mirror, curls pulled back from her face and hangers in hand. She squinted at the two pieces.

Jane peered from the bathroom, eyelash curler perching precariously on one eye. "The black one for sure… shows off your assets the best don't you think?"

Lizzy snorted and dropped the hangers. "Janie, dear, it's been over a year since I've had a date. Who exactly am I trying to impress at this dinner?"

"You can't act like you weren't drooling over Denny…"

Lizzy huffed, accepting defeat. She dropped the white chiffon dress and slid the black top over her lacy bra. It was sheer, with ruffled sleeves and neck. She slid skinny black jeans up her sore legs and placed them into tall black boots.

Jane stood at the door to the bathroom. "Turn."

Lizzy gave a spin, rocking slightly in her heels.

Jane gave her nod of approval.

William was pushing Caroline's chair into the table of the Ranch's restaurant as 8:30 p.m. rolled around. Charles called over the Sommelier and ordered a bottle for the table. At 8:35 the sisters entered the dining room - the glowing blonde laughing with a sultry brunette.

Jane kissed Charles's cheek before taking up the spot next to Caroline. Lizzy sat in between Charles and Mr. Darcy - who took up the chair situated at the head of the table.

"Jane darling, you look fabulous… Lizzy, good to see you as well." Caroline crooned, blinking eyes too large for her thinned-out face. She was exceedingly orange, and her lips appeared slightly more swollen than usual. Lizzy smirked, slightly. Pool day or donation to the plastic surgery industry?

William took a long sip of his red merlot, his eyes focused on Lizzy. Her eyes, outlined in charcoal, were brighter than usual, and her lips were especially pouty - both features were framed by gentle wisps of her delicate updo. And then there was her shirt - conservative in its cut while revealing the black lace of her bra. He was enchanted.

"Will?"

Darcy's eyes snapped to Caroline Bingley, the voice of the inquiry. "What?"

"Charles was just telling me about your race with Eliza… I'm surprised you lost, considering your years of horsemanship… Of course, you're a very chivalrous man…" Caroline's nasal tone questioned, her spindly hand reaching out for her wine glass.

Darcy opened his mouth to respond but Lizzy beat him to it: "I can assure you Caroline, that Mr. Darcy, is gentleman enough to not let me win. Jane and I grew up on a ranch, so you could say I'm quite the horseman myself."

Darcy took another sip, and Caroline's expression soured slightly before perking back up.

"Yes, Lizzy is quite good. She used to win all these competitions, and she probably could've ridden in college had she really wanted to," Jane piped up.

"I didn't know that...I'm sure Darce wouldn't have agreed to race you, had he known that either" Charles laughed.

"Oh, I'm sure would have agreed to race even if I was a jockey." Lizzy looked towards the man in question with a twinkle in her eye. "Though something tells me he does not take defeat easily."

Charles laughed aloud, and toasted Lizzy with his glass. "That he does not."

Darcy, tired of being talk about as if he were absent, called over the waiter.

Caroline and Jane both ordered salads, Charles a prime rib, Lizzy poached salmon, and Will a filet.

Dinner was a rather stunted affair. Jane, Charles, and Caroline immersed themselves in wedding jargon, leaving Darcy and Lizzy to tense silence.

"Why didn't you ride in college?"

Lizzy glanced at Mr. Darcy, affronted by his initiative to converse. "My horse Caravelli threw me off senior year of highschool. I fractured my hip, and I never really was the same. Today's the first day I've ridden in years."

William chewed his steak thoughtfully. "My little sister was thrown off as well when she was about eight. Still can't get her on a pony, let alone a horse."

"Georgiana?"

Mr. Darcy nodded. "You have a good memory."

"How old is she?"

"She will be twenty in June. ten years my junior."

"Is she at school?"

A slightly pained looked crossed Darcy's face. "Not at the moment."

Lizzy nodded and finished off her wine.

Caroline eyed her. "Do you really think you should be drinking Elizabeth? I mean, after what happened at Charlie's last week…"

Lizzy gave her a bland smile. "Fortunately Caroline, I do believe they hold AA meetings every Sunday night here, if you would like to accompany me."

Jane laughed into her napkin and even the inscrutable Mr. Darcy cracked a smile.

"It's 10:00 already? I'm afraid it's time for me to retire for the night. Can't forfeit any sleep time." Caroline pushed her chair back gathered her purse, flipping her fine blonde hair over her bony shoulder. "Goodnight everyone. Night Will," she added, brushing a hand on Mr. Darcy's shoulder as she left the table.

Jane and Charles left soon after, hand in hand as they bid goodnight to their friends.

Lizzy watched them go, realizing her dear sister would not be returning to their room that night.

The waiter stopped by the table with the bill. Lizzy grabbed it and flipped to the receipt, gaping slightly at the cost.

"Please, allow me," William demanded more than offered. He reached for the booklet, but Lizzy pulled it away.

"No problem Mr Darcy. You drove me here, and, since I am a woman of independent means, I can pay for this. I will pay for this."

"I insist, Miss Bennet. It's the least I can do, and I did, after all I did lose today."

"Fine." Lizzy threw her napkin on the table and stood up. "I'm going to the bar."

William watched her curvy backside retreat to the bar before signing his name on the receipt and sitting back in his chair. _Why did she get so mad? I was offering to pay for her dinner._

Lizzy saddled up to the bar and ordered a martini - dry.

"I'm sorry if I offended you."

Lizzy turned around languidly. "At least let me buy you a drink, and I promise not to throw up."

William nodded and sat down next to her, his broad back supporting his perfect posture even on the bar stool. "Bourbon."

The two sat silently, sipping their drinks freely. "I'm not sure I ever properly apologized for what I said in Paris last week... at least an apology you'll remember."

Lizzy looked to her companion. "You accused me earlier of judging you on your music taste… do you think it better to judge on looks?"

She watched as he squirmed, taking pleasure in his awkward countenance. His jaw clenched fiercely, a defined, ninety degree angle whose shadow melted into his unruly hair.

"No. Of course not. There really are no excuses."

Lizzy swiveled her body so she faced William. He peered at her with sorrowful eyes, yet Lizzy did not know the man well enough to determine whether he was truly contrite.

"Are you sorry that I heard it? Or are you sorry for saying it?" Lizzy downed half her martini.

Darcy chuckled dryly. "You are a lawyer."

Lizzy tilted her head, awaiting his answer.

"I'm sorry for saying it." He concluded, swigging the rest of his bourbon into his mouth - need liquid courage perhaps, after admitting the truth.

"Do you really think that about me? That I'm not pretty enough?" Lizzy scooted closer so that Darcy could smell her breath - gin. She narrowed her eyes, adopting a cat-like stare.

He took a deep breath. The bar was all dark wood and low lighting, a solitary piano playing over the speakers. It was almost 11, and, on that Sunday night, only Lizzy and himself occupied the bar. The bartender had retreated momentarily to the back room. "No. Not in the slightest."

Elizabeth raised her head, and tilted it, centimeters away from touching her lips to his. "You think I'm pretty?"

Darcy stared down his nose at her lips. He turned back to the bar. "Yes."

Lizzy gave him a slight smile. "Walk me back to my room? You are chivalrous are you not?"

"Of course."

The pair strolled silently towards the elevator, which they boarded in equal silence. They were both buzzed. And Lizzy, was feeling increasingly antsy - anxious for some unknown fulfillment.

They reached floor three and disembarked. The eternity of silence quickly reached an end as Lizzy arrived at Room 317. She turned to Mr. Darcy, "This is me."

"Goodnight, Miss Bennet," Darcy gruffed. He bent down to kiss her cheek, pressing firmly when his lips made contact with her silky skin.

He pulled back slowly, staring into her eyes.

Lizzy's gaze traveled slowly from his melted-chocolate irises to the nude pink of his lips. Unable to resist the urge, she raised a finger, swiping his bottom lip. Lizy cupped his jaw with her hand and planted a soft kiss on his already-puckered lips before stepping back.

"Are you drunk?" He asked, brows slightly furrowed.

"Are you?" Lizzy replied cautiously.

Darcy shook his head "no." He slid an arm up Lizzy's back, stopping at the nape of her neck. Lizzy blinked in the hazy light of the hotel hallway. One hand toying with the curls at the back of Darcy's neck, LIzzy slid her other hand up his silk-clad chest, letting it rest right under his clavicle. She watched him close his eyes before she closed her own. William kissed her again, and it was perfect. His lips molded against her own, increasing the pressure capriciously. Lizzy responded eagerly to his gentle caresses, every touch stirring her fire. Mr. Darcy was pleased to find Lizzy's vigorous reciprocation. She kissed him back, hard, sliding her tongue across his lips, pulling his hair hard. Lizzy dragged her mouth from William's to catch her breath, rasping loudly. Mr. Darcy ran his lips down Lizzy's cheek to her throat, sucking at the long column of her exposed neck. His grip tightened around Lizzy's hips, one hand stretching down to her round backside. Lizzy moaned, leaning into Darcy's tall form. She cupped his head with both hands and found his lips again with her own.

Several more heavily-heated moments passed, Lizzy and Darcy woven into a singular form as their sighs grew louder.

But then the ding of the elevator pierced the passionate humidity of the poorly-lit hall, and the pair shot apart, desisting their fully-clothed dry-hump. After several seconds of heavy breaths and longing stares, Darcy straightened his suit jacket.

"Goodnight Miss Bennet." His tall form retreated to the elevator and boarded it, not looking back.

Lizzy took another deep breath and looked heavenward before retreating to her own room, resigning the hedonist lapse in judgement to suppressed sexual tension and overflowing liquor. She shut the door with a slam and curled up on her bed, hoping the morning sun would shine light on her true desires.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 _A/N: Thank you to my oh-so-observant reviewers:) To those concerned about the route from Cisco to Napa Valley: We have family in San Fran., and when we did go to Napa Valley, we took a coastal route that actually lasts about three hours. I narrowed it down to two._

The sky was still dark when Lizzy woke the next morning. Rarely one to naturally wake up before 10:00 a.m., the dark clouds were foreign to Lizzy - not quite night, not yet morning. Clad in only her underwear, Lizzy rolled out of bed and wrapped her hair into a tight bun. She hastily shoved her clothes into her small suitcase and entered the bathroom, shivering slightly as her feet crossed the cold marble. Lizzy flipped on the switch, her pallid face alighted by the searing fluorescent light. Eyeliner was smeared on the edges of her face, and her lips were dry, cracking under unwashed coats of lipstick. Lizzy rinsed her mouth out with water and brushed her teeth, lazily propping one hip on the porcelain sink.

Walking back into the room, Lizzy slid on a pair of gym shorts and tank top before scribbling a quick note to her sister: _Had to leave ASAP. Need to stop by office. Call u later. XX Lizzy._ She capped the marker and tucked the note into her pocket, lugging her suitcase through the door and out into the hallway.

Lizzy glanced down the hallway before descending to the ground floor. At 5:00 a.m. the lobby was desolate except for the young woman manning the front desk.

"I hope you've enjoyed your stay," she chirped through a fake smile.

"I have… thank you." Lizzy's voice was rough with sleep. She gave her inquirer a quick smile. "Would you mind getting this note to Room 412, guest name Bingley? And calling me a cab to San Francisco?"

Fifteen minutes later, the summoned taxi appeared. Lizzy collapsed into the back, sliding on dark sunglasses and closing her eyes, hoping to fall asleep before the sun could break through the scattered clouds.

An hour later, William Darcy lie wide awake in bed. The features of his hotel room were grainy in the dark, and the air was tepid. The news played out on the flat screen before his bed, the harsh colors alighting the room in an unflattering manner. He rolled out of bed, sitting on the corner of his mattress and wiping his face with his hands. _What the fuck is wrong Darcy?_

Darcy was strictly particular when it came to women - he accepted more than his fair share of flattery but rarely returned it. His sex life was healthy, but he'd never had a long term girlfriend. Will had toyed with Caroline Bingley a couple years back, but her vanity and overall character-deficiencies became too much for Darcy to handle. Now she pined after him, despite every step he'd taken to redirect her efforts.

But Elizabeth Bennet was another beast in herself. Darcy wanted eagerly to rid himself of the physical torture her proximity foisted, but it was too messy - her sister was marrying Charles, as well as the fact it would be a conflict of interest in the Crawley case. _Should I wait out the case? Console her once she's lost? Or do I suggest a mutually-beneficial relationship?_ Darcy was in no place to look for a serious partner, and, Lizzy's actions the previous night had led him to believe neither was she. Maybe we can talk about it on the ride home?

Darcy walked to the shower, shedding his boxers and letting the water fall from his head to his toes, mind still a mess.

The banana yellow of Lizzy's taxi was peeling off the highway, just ten minutes away from her house, when her phone's bleats pried her from sleep. Usually a deep sleeper, it took not only her ringtone but also the driver's irritated coughs to fully wake Lizzy. Completely-conscious just moments after the final ring, Lizzy dug through her purse to pull out the offending object. _Jane_. Lizzy sighed and called her sister back.

"What the hell?" came the sweet voice just seconds later.

Lizzy cringed. "Sorry…?"

"A note? You could've at least come said goodbye!"

"And broken up your mid-morning love fest with Charles?"

"Lizzy!"

"Sorry… I just, I realized there was some work I had to finish up, and I…" Lizzy was rarely compliant.

"Did something happen last night?" Jane murmured suspiciously.

"Nothing of consequence." Lizzy stated with finality.

"Ok… if you feel like talking, I'll keep my phone near me."

"Have a nice flight, Janie."

"Bye, Lizzy."

Lizzy ended the call, looking out her window, and, as an idea came to mind, quickly typed a text to Charlotte.

Ten minutes later Lizzy sat before Charlotte Lucas with a plated-croissant and steaming mocha at the Starbucks next to Young & Grantham. It was 7:15 a.m., and, even though the coffee shop was dark, Lizzy's eyes remained shielded by the brown gradient of her sunglasses.

Charlotte gave Lizzy a glance, and, in her no-nonsense-way, asserted, "Damn Lizzy. You look awful."

"Thanks." Lizzy's reply was clipped and sarcastic.

"So what's the matter? Shouldn't you be getting to work soon?"

"I just.. I guess, I needed to talk to someone…" Lizzy trailed off as she rubbed her temple.

Charlotte's eyebrows creased. She tied her light brown hair into a low ponytail and looked at Lizzy expectantly. "Am I to assume this has something to do with William Darcy?"

Lizzy avoided Charlotte's questioning gaze. "I don't know why I'm acting like this… I mean, I basically fled Calistoga this morning just to avoid seeing him... It's too hard. He's pompous and presumptuous and insulting, but then he kisses me and - and - and I don't know." Lizzy paused and looked to her friend.

Charlotte frowned. "Lizzy, frankly, I think entering into any type of relationship with William would have to be done with the utmost thought. You can't just fling yourself into this man's arms - I mean, let alone the fact he's Charles's best friend, he's the defense attorney in your case as well… I mean that's got to be a major conflict of interest, right?"

Lizzy sighed. "You're right… besides he's been nothing but an ass to me. So, why does he think he can get in my pants?"

"Why do you let him think he can?"

Lizzy slammed her head onto her hands folded on the table. "What's wrong with me?"

Charlotte took a sip of her coffee. "You need to get laid," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Right," Lizzy huffed, picking up her head and rolling her eyes. "And by whom?"

"Didn't you go on a date on Saturday? With that - that bartender? From Charlie's?"

Lizzy hesitated. "George."

"Yeah, what about him?"

Lizzy scrunched her face. "I don't know… he seemed kinda smarmy…"

"Just get it out of your system!"

"Ok, ok… I'll consider it." Lizzy finished her coffee, and, giving Charlotte a kiss on the cheek, bid her friend adieu before hailing a cab home.

This rest of Lizzy's week was a montage of legal pads, meetings, and trying phone calls. Luckily, she didn't have to meet with Darcy for another week, and, since he had neglected to call after their hallway-rendezvous, she felt no shame.

It was Friday afternoon at 4:00 p.m. when Lizzy's already dismal week seemed to hit rock bottom. An associate at her practice, Bill Collins - perpetual-annoyance and seemingly constant-presence - stopped in her office to give her a fax.

"Good afternoon, Elizabeth."

Lizzy looked up from her desk briefly. "Hi Billy."

"Bill." He cleared his throat. "I saw that you're representing Andrew Crawley against William Darcy… I don't know if you know this but I went to Harvard." He paused. "William Darcy happened to be a couple years older my senior. At Harvard."

Lizzy was ready to be rid of this excruciating conversation. "That's great Bill. I'll make sure to let him know next time he comes round."

"Excellent." Bill stood before Lizzy's desk, hands clasped behind his back.

Lizzy signed her name twice before heaving an internal sigh and look up once more. "Anything else I can help you with?"

Bill cleared his throat. "Actually, now that you mention it, I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner?"

Lizzy winced infinitesimally. "Oh… Bill… I'm so flattered, but I have a date tonight." Normally, Lizzy abhorred all lies, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Bill puffed his chest out slightly. "I see. Well, perhaps next week?"

"Perhaps." Lizzy responded noncommittally. "I have a lot of work to finish up here so if you don't mind?"

Bill took the hint and edged out of her office, leaving her door ajar on his exit.

Two hours later, Lizzy walked into her house. Tossing her bags onto her patterned loveseat and slipping her feet out of her heels. She walked into her kitchen with no expectations, opening the fridge and shutting it again - its contents consisting only of Almond Milk and some Greek yogurt. It was 6:07 p.m. on a Friday, and Lizzy felt antsy. She wandered aimlessly from room to room, stopping in her closet to strip her knee-length skirt and pin-striped blouse. Lizzy unpinned her wild curls and stood before the racks of clothes, confused. She glanced at the flannel of her pajamas before her eyes slid over to her nicer things.

Lizzy thought back to her conversations with Bill and Charlotte. She lied about having a date - and now she felt empty and useless. Mind made up, Lizzy pulled a short denim skirt from a shelf of her closet, pulling the fabric taut around her waist. She pulled a patterned, knit top over her head and slid her calves into tall beige boots. Glossing her lips and applying some makeup, Lizzy glanced in the mirror momentarily, admiring her appearance before heading out. Getting into a cab, she pulled out her phone and put it to her ear, praying for the success of her last-ditch-effort.

15 minutes later she sat before George Wickham at Boulevard. He had received her proposition with the utmost enthusiasm - a trait Lizzy both valued, and was skeptical of.

"I take it you don't have to work tonight?" She asked, opening up her menu. The restaurant was busy, but the intimate lighting and close-confines were cuddling, not crowding.

"I had someone take over my shift," George smirked. He smooth a hand over his mop of curls, and snapped at a waiter. Lizzy winced.

"A bottle of Cristal for the table please." George all-but-demanded. The waitress, a poor freckled girl of only 18, nodded.

Twenty minutes passed. Lizzy watched George drink glass after glass of the champagne, telling her mildly-entertaining stories about the past week at Charlie's, rarely asking for her own opinion or ideas. Lizzy gave small nods and quiet "yeahs" to his eternal monologue, re-reading the menu until she had memorized the entrees. The man was no doubt charming - vain, yes - but indubitably, a suave individual. He looked particularly enticing tonight, clad in navy dress pants and a checkered shirt, but Lizzy was sure his facade betrayed his true wealth. The waitress took their order - Lizzy, a Caprese salad, George, pan-seared lamb. The bottle of champagne dwindled precariously. George shoveled in his lamb. Lizzy ate her salad capriciously, slowly losing distaste for both her meal and the night as a whole.

But it was only at the conclusion of the meal that Lizzy felt truly nauseous. The waitress approached the table with the check. Lizzy was more than willing to split the bill with George - her meal having cost only a quarter of his.

She opened up the booklet. $261.00. Lizzy placed a $100 in the check's pocket and conspicuously slid it towards George. He flashed her a smile and started to dig around in his pockets. Smile still intact, George opened his mouth.

"Babe, it seems I don't have my wallet on me tonight… could you spot me just this once?"

Lizzy sucked in a breath. "Sure, no problem."

He gave her an even cheesier grin. "You're amazing."

Lizzy took his subsequent string of compliments in stride, none of them making up for his absence in propriety.

Despite her meager attempts to dissuade him, George insisted on assisting Lizzy home. The cab ride was awkward - mostly due to Lizzy's agitated silence, and it only worsened when George's overbearing hand grabbed her own.

He leaned over to her ear, "You're beautiful."

Lizzy gave him a small smile and quiet "Thank you." Feeling nothing but claustrophobic from his light caresses. His thumb gently traced her knuckles; while one hand stayed passive in his grasp, Lizzy's other clutched the black leather of the taxi's back seat, knuckles white. She tried to keep her breathing even and her mind blank, but nothing could fight off the repulsion of George's physical proximity.

As they approached Lizzy's home, George followed her to the door. Please don't let him think he's coming in. No way, after tonight. It was dark outside, 8:45 p.m. almost. Lizzy unlocked the handle and turned the knob, blocking the doorway with her body. George stepped closer and she tensed slightly.

"Thank you for a wonderful meal, Elizabeth…" George oozed. He closed the space between them.

Lizzy moved to kiss his cheek, but George turned his head at the last second, foisting his lips on her own. Lizzy, taken aback, did not respond to the kiss at first, and, when she finally did, did so with as little enthusiasm as possible.

Once the sloppy smacking had completed its course, Lizzy stepped back, and, averting George's eyes, bid him goodnight and closed the door. George, contributing Lizzy's reticent nature to bashfulness at his own presence, gave a cocky wave and smile as he retreated back to the street.

Inside her house, Lizzy gave an exhaustive sigh. She huffed and stomped to her room, throwing her pocket book onto the couch and staring down the flawless facade of the beige walls. Once again pulling off her clothes, Lizzy drew a bath and settled in, the steaming water doing very little to bring her peace. _This week has been a total, utter, failure. I'm unfocused. Damn you Darcy._ Lizzy slid further into the tub while the heat of the water climbed up her back like a pair of hands enfolding her body.

If possible, Darcy's week had been worse. He emerged from his hotel room on Monday only to find that Lizzy had up-and-left hours prior. Darcy drove home confused and out of sorts. Jane and Charles had given him questioning looks, and Caroline seemed nothing but ebullient that Lizzy had vanished.

As for Tuesday through Friday, Darcy began to descend the introspective intricacies of his own morals. Of course, Darcy was not blind to the moral deficiencies of the rich and elite; he grew up in upstate New York with family in Hartford and Providence, surrounded by blue bloods and the Kennedy-like hierarchy. Likewise, a couple years at Oxford had shown William what young boys with trust funds do with no parents -no leash. It was a Gatsbyian situation almost: Darcy felt both within and without. But when Lizzy accused him in the car of defending Edgar exclusively on terms of money-grubbing and status-seeking with all of her fiery righteous indignation, Darcy felt totally within - who was this woman - _this girl_ \- from a station far below his own to attack him on her own assumptions?

Representing Edgar was more than just a formality - Mr. Meryton had rescued Mr. Darcy Senior from an investment gone wrong, decades back, so William felt it his duty to return the favor. Though, whereas Darcy had previously viewed the case exclusively as just another case to win, he now felt plagued by inner turmoil of guilt and regret: perhaps Elizabeth was right, perhaps - perhaps the defendant, Andrew Crawley, deserved justice rather than Edgar? So Darcy continued the week in this manner - bed sheets rumpled in frustrating, sleepless nights, and office hours spent gazing out his window. He was at an impasse: within or without? And at the crux of this stalemate was Elizabeth Bennet.

Friday came, gloomy and tempestuous. Charles Bingley picked his friend up from work, braving both the weather and the storm he knew was hiding on the 65th floor. He walked into Pemberley, Andrews, and Oxford with a wide step and firm posture, determined in his goals. Charles found William Darcy in a most curious manner - leaning back in his chair, feet propped, and tie loose as he gazed out his window, face completely blank.

"Darce! What the hell is wrong with you?"

William turned at the sound of his name, removing his feet from the sill upon which they were propped. "Nothing… it's just - this case, I can't seem to… my wits aren't about me."

Charles gave a chuckle. "Let's go grab a beer. Get your mind off things."

Darcy nodded, throwing his duster over his shoulders and grabbing his briefcase.

The pair sat in a loud bar - Darcy nursed a Stella while his friend slugged back a Blue Moon. Charles was talking - yelling, really - animatedly about a patient with some rare skin lesion he had seen that week; Darcy heard none of it.

Noticing his friend's apathy, Charles stared hard at Darcy. "Come now, man. You're always so serious. Lighten up - get a girl."

Darcy took a sip of his beer. "I don't need a girl. I need a good vacation… I'm thinking of flying back home next week to check on things… see Georgie."

Charles squinted his eyes skeptically. "And you're sure there's nothing going on… nothing with Elizabeth, perhaps? You did seem upset when she left that morning… you two didn't -"

"No!" Darcy spoke up.

Charles put his hands up in defense. "Just making sure. Jane was suspicious."

Darcy took another sip and turn his gaze back towards the bar.

"Speaking of… Jane's mother is throwing her an engagement party on Sunday."

"I don't -"

"Nope. You're to come. I won't hear of anything else." Charles half-joked. "Besides, you're my best man… I need you there."

Darcy rolled his eyes. "Am I to write your name in for every weekend up until the wedding?"

"Yes." Charles answered seriously before laughing.

"And Elizabeth will be there?" Darcy refused eye contact.

"Yes." Charles, bemused, turned back to the bar.

The rest of the night passed in near-silence.

Sunday arrived, and so too did the dread of both the eldest Bennet sisters. Lizzy scurried about her house, primping to perfection lest she suffer her mother's constant nags. She wore a white linen jumpsuit and had blown out her curls so they were voluminous waves.

Lizzy hardly drove. She lacked all types of spatial awareness, and, in terms of the highway, had a very tenuous grasp on reality. Yet, the time came when it was necessary for her to drive. Her beat-up SUV - a matronly figure presented to her upon her entree into college - was parked comfortably in a parallel space before her home. At half-past nine, Charlotte Lucas approached Lizzy's door. Knocking lightly, Lizzy appeared in the doorway almost instantaneously.

"Ready?" Lizzy seemed to brim with anxiety, and her face was flushed with anxiety.

"Of course. Keys?"

Lizzy nodded, dangling the object in her hand.

"Phone?"

Lizzy rolled her eyes, annoyed, but cringed slightly as she realized the offending item was not in her pockets.

"Damn, you're good, Charlotte." Lizzy grumbled.

"I'm not that good. You're just predictable." Charlotte laughed.

The pair jumped into Lizzy's Volvo. Charlotte started her playlist, and Lizzy groaned.

"What?" Charlotte dragged out.

"Jimmy Buffett that's what."Lizzy scrunched her face, propping a pair of sunglasses in her hair while she pulled out of her neighborhood.

"God you're picky!"

"I'm not picky! I just don't like the repetitive-acoustic-reefer sound."

Charlotte - a usually diminutive creature - gave a bellowing laugh.

The two continued in this way; Lizzy criticizing every song, Charlotte defending each one.

Lizzy's family home was a cozy ranch situated just a couple miles away from Stanford, where Mr. Bennet was a Comparative Literature professor. And, even though each nook and cranny of the wooden house was crammed with volumes ranging from lurid tales to science-fiction to calculus, Elizabeth was the only offspring of the Bennet clan with an interest in reading as avid as her father's. She pulled reluctantly into the drive, a cloud of must rising as she ascended the drive.

"Oh fuck," she swore. On the wood fences lining the drive were white balloons tied to the individual posts - 500 at least.

Charlotte craned her neck. "Wow… I almost forgot what your mom is like. Almost." She looked to Lizzy, and the two burst into giggles.

Next to the drive - a half-a-mile long, gravel stretch that connoted more grandeur of the property than reality posed - stood two stocky, dark brown horses who picked fickley at the sparse grass. Lizzy glanced at her favorite, Archer, wistfully before speeding up towards the house.

Frances Bennet had truly outdone herself. A white tent stood behind the home, housing the circus within. Even though the luncheon was not to begin for several hours, cater waiters scurried around like mice, faithful to their mistress - the stout, matronly figure clothed in a white dress shirt and capris. LIzzy cringed as she watched her mother demand heatedly to the young twenty-somethings, each carrying covered dishes to assorted tables.

Lizzy turned to Charlotte. "Do we turn around? She hasn't seen us yet."

Charlotte smiled. "Oh come now, Liz. Think of Jane."

"Ugh." Lizzy yanked the key out of the ignition, attempting to clandestinely sneak into the back porch of the house. Charlotte made it inside mere moments before Lizzy, who, as she was only three feet away, heard the shrill cluck of a mother hen.

"Lizzy! Elizabeth Bennet! Come greet your mother!" The shriek seemed almost nonhuman.

LIzzy squeezed her eyes shut, shoulders tensed, before turning around. "Mother! The place looks wonderful… I'm sure Jane and Charles will be quite pleased."

"Oh yes, yes." Her mother squeezed Lizzy tightly, like how a boa constricts its prey. "I do hope the Finches show up… I would love to see how Susan reacts once she sees my own decorations..." Mrs. Bennet began to waddle away before spinning around. "Are you wearing that number to the lunch?" She gesticulated to Elizabeth's attire.

"Yes, mom." Lizzy was now cross. "I'm going in to see Jane… do you need any help?"

"No, no…" Mrs. Bennet was distracted again, dismissing her daughter with a wave of her hand.

Lizzy nodded, turning back towards the house. She opened the creaky back door and stepped into her childhood kitchen. Furnished in copper pots and red woods with white paneled walls, Lizzy smiled contentedly in memory of early mornings spent in the kitchen with only her father before pre-dawn rides.

She made her way from the kitchen along the narrow hallway, past the antique sitting room, until she arrived at the small bedroom located at the back of the house. Lizzy smiled slightly at Jane's lilting laugh that seemed to float through the sun rays shining on the exposed wood.

"Jane?" she called out, turning the corner into the elder sisters' childhood bedroom. Jane perched with poised posture on her sagging twin bed, a baby pink comforter and white-wooden frame. Clad in a ivory dress with matching overlay, the sun filtered angelically through Jane's braided updo, wisps framing her face - softening her Nordic cheekbones and light blue eyes. She held a flute of marigold champagne, her eyes resting dotingly on the lanky form of Charles. The latter, also in white, stood slightly bent as he gazed at the numerous ribbons and pictures adorning the wall.

Jane turned her head to her sister's entrance. "Lizzy! Thank God you came… where's Charlotte?"

Lizzy gestured to the hall. "Talking to Lydia or Catherine I suppose. Hi, Charles."

Charlie turned to his addresser. "Hey Liz," he gave her a knowing grin.

Lizzy flitted further into the room, bouncing on her bed. The weak wire-frame squeaked, and the mattress dipped precipitously. The duvet was the same it had been for the past 20 years of her life: brown horses galloping across a blue quilt. "Whatcha looking at?"

"Oh, just these horribly embarrassing photos of you two in seventh grade… pigtails and a sweater vest Elizabeth?"

LIzzy's eyebrows floated together. "Hey. I was a cute nerd! Besides… not all of us can be little Claudia Schiffers at age twelve." She looked pointedly to Jane.

Jane laughed. "Charles you better just hope Lizzy doesn't get ahold of your middle school pictures."

"Ooh… enticing!" Lizzy's eyes lit up, and Charles laughed.

Lizzy scooted off the bed, looking at the small, pink radio clock on her bedside table. 11:17 a.m. "I supposed you two are to make your debut quite soon… I will go chat with the teens and give you some privacy." She left the room, traveling further up the hallway to a narrow wooden staircase. At the top of the stairs stood a small room. She knocked lightly on the closed door, opening it after a moment's hesitation. "Hello, Mary."

"Elizabeth," the addressed girl nodded. Mary was taller than Lizzy, with a naturally dark complexion that was diluted by her time spent indoors. Though not as attractive as her sisters - due mostly to lack of effort - Mary held a quiet beauty, a quality bolstered by her literary nature. Often overlooked, Mary's studies were exemplary, a feat no doubt accomplished to overcompensate for her reticent nature.

The sisters hugged. "What are you up to?" Lizzy asked, looking around the cramped room, monastic almost with just a shelf of worn novels to decorate it.

"I just finished The Master and Margarita. I'm to write a report on it for my AP Comp class."

Lizzy nodded appreciatively. "What about college? Have you decided where you will attend next year?"

Mary, annoyed, gave her older sister a look of pointed agitation. "I don't think mom or dad care all that much. I'm considering Wellesley. And Williams. Perhaps, Pomona if I wanted to stay in California."

"All the way in Maine? Massachusetts? Are you sure you want to go that far?"

"The further the better." Mary stated, ending her sentiments with finality.

Lizzy nodded thoughtfully, "Ok. Well, you can always call me if you need anything… I'm going to talk to Lydia and Kitty… don't be late to lunch, ok?" Lizzy walked across the hall rather reluctantly, not all too enthusiastic to see her sillier sisters. Their shared door was closed, but Lizzy could hear the stream of giggles through the cracks.

"Lydie? Kitty?" She called out, cracking open the door.

"Lizzy!" The two screamed, almost in unison. Lydia was sitting on her twin bed, carefully holding still a mirror. Kitty was poised above her, tweezers ready to pluck. Charlotte - always a fan of the pair's enthusiasm and boundless laughter - sat on a chair by the window, observing the scene with a serene smile on her face.

Lizzy laughed. "Oh God, what have I walked into?"

"Come, sit Elizabeth. Your eyebrows need desperate attention." Lydia commanded, pointing to the spot on the adjacent bed.

Lizzy rolled her eyes, coming to sit on the bed, but denying Kitty any access to her facial hair. "Lydia you're not really wearing that are you?"

Lydia scoffed. "Yes, mom, I am wearing it. What does it matter to you?" Her white babydoll dress was short and revealed a good bit of ample cleavage.

"At least put on a sweater or something." Lizzy mothered, assuming her role as older sister.

"That's what I told her!" Kitty whined, swiping another stray hair from Lydia's scrunched visage.

"Oh shut up. You're just jealous because I have tits and you don't!" Lydia's complaint was childlike, an immaturity Lizzy hoped she would've grown out of. The sisters bickered a little while longer, and Lizzy began to tune them out. Eventually the time came when the foursome were to descend to the party, the younger girls excited and thrilled at promise of boys, the older ones slightly anxious for what lay ahead.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 _A/N: Happy Holidays! Hope you're all being treated well._

The weather was warm for April - 75 degrees Lizzy guessed, but she couldn't feel the bright stare of the sun under the great white tent next to her parent's house. She picked a glass of champagne off of the floating catering-tray. She glanced around - every guest was in some white or off-white outfit, save for the black neck ties and pants of the servers. The effect was almost ethereal - the sun coruscating off the abundance of white in an almost kaleidoscopic effect. Once she had taken it in, Lizzy turned to Charlotte.

"Where's my mother?"

Charlotte craned her neck, lengthening her petite body as far as it would stretch. "I don't see - oh, wait - there she is. Over by the Finches." She gestured subtly to the stout woman talking spiritedly to a rather non-responsive couple.

"Ah." Lizzy's cheeks reddened slightly with embarrassment. She took a sharp sip of her champagne. "I'm going to go rescue my dad…I have yet to see him emerge from whatever hiding spot he has discovered."

Charlotte nodded. "I see my parents by their table… find me if you need anything?"

Lizzy gave her a smile and walked the perimeter of the tent, eventually spotting her father by a table in the corner. "Dad!" She leaned down, giving him a quick peck on his grizzly cheek and small squeeze around his neck.

"Elizabeth… avoiding the fiasco are we?" Mr. Bennet's inquiry was gruff, but laden with dry humor.

"It's not a fiasco. Yet." Lizzy sat down next to her father. "Mother does seem to know how to plan an event - however totally humiliating she might be...How is work? The girls?"

"Equally silly I'm afraid. And yours?"

"Oh… I've got a case - the Crawley one? - and the opposing attorney is driving me just… absolutely mad. Not to mention he happens to be the best man of dear Charles."

"Really?" Mr. Bennet's attention was piqued. "That ought to make for an interesting walk down the aisle."

Lizzy smirked, taking another sip from her glass. "Hopefully I can make it that far."

Her father smiled before looking into the crowd. Lizzy followed suit, propping her chin onto her hand and gazing into the swarm of guests. It was a rather rowdy bunch, the majority of the ruckus emanating from the singular ruby-stained mouth of Mrs. Bennet. She observed the circus esque atmosphere a little while longer, casually critiquing each actor in the comedy to pass the time.

Thirty minutes later, calamity struck: someone gave Fanny Bennet a microphone. She called a red-faced Charlie and almost-too-serene Jane to the front. And so the serenation began.

"Hello, friends, family. I'd just like to thank everyone for coming out today to celebrate the engagement of my dear Janie to Dr. Bingley," Mrs. Bennet began, giggling and wobbling slightly under shear euphoria. "Jane, you were always such a beauty - skipped all of college and went right into modeling, she did. Always so popular with the boys too - I knew you would get yourself a nice husband…" There was a smattering of laughter, Jane's smile wilted, and Charlie's face assumed a nice raspberry hue. Lizzy slumped behind her father's rigid posture and held her breath through the rest of the speech. "Of course, God knows what she's going to do now. Most models become a bit washed up - but Janie is such a clever girl, not just a pretty face!"

As she concluded her speech, Mrs. Bennet looked out to her semi-attentive crowd. "Lizzy, won't you come say a few words about Charles and your sister?"

Lizzy blushed furiously and took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind of its present agitation. She clapped her father on the shoulder and rose reluctantly to the eyes of her parents' friends. Pardoning her way through the crowd, Lizzy took the microphone from her mother. "Thank you, mother." She gritted through a tight smile. Mrs. Bennet gave her an oblivious smile and went to stand beside Jane.

"Hello," she began, looking out blankly into the crowd. "For those of you that don't know me, my name is Elizabeth, and I am the bride's little sister. As many of you might know, Jane - the dear soul she is - can be particularly hard to please… sometimes I think her sense of style is its very own person. Growing up, I was subjected to stockpiles of Vogue and Harper's Bazaar littered throughout our room as well as makeovers before Spring Fling so Jane could catch the attention of Jake Polanski. So thank God for you Charles Bingley - perfectly tailored to each of Jane's tastes, a feat I'd deemed impossible some time ago. I so look forward to this wedding because, if it's anything like the two of you, it could be nothing less than extraordinary." Lizzy rose her glass to the couple, quite proud of her impromptu speech, and nodded appreciatively to the generous applause.

Jane stepped forward to give Lizzy a small kiss on her cheek, stepping back and leaning into Charles. Lizzy gave the pair a smile, ready to return to her seat when she spotted him.

William Darcy was late. Twenty-nine minutes precisely. He had promised Charles he would come - that's what really matters, right? More than that, Charles had conveniently neglected to warn him of the dress code, so here Will stood at the corner of all white in khaki pants and a powder blue button-down. Falling ostracized as it was, Darcy had half a mind to turn around upon his entrance; a short woman up front gave a most degrading speech about Jane - and her apparent vanity, two younger girls giggled audibly next to him, and in the corner an older gentleman snored noisily. He was appalled at the blatant disarray of the present gathering. That was when he heard her voice. Looking past the great hats and maneuvering waiters, William spotted Elizabeth Bennet at the center of an amassed semi-circle. She breathed summer, and the husky timbre of her voice, though he could not hear it, was like the lyrics to the song he had long forgotten. He listened to her talk - an entertaining speech, evidently - mesmerized by the essence of her. It was then that William Darcy made up his mind: he couldn't - he wouldn't - stay away. Elizabeth's speech ended, and Darcy, sure that he had caught her sight, watched as she moved to stand beside Charlotte Lucas. He inhaled heavily and started toward her direction.

"Charlotte, he's here." Lizzy kept her expression light, but her eyes were deadly.

Charlotte looked around quickly before leaning in conspiratorially, "I see him. He's heading our way."

"What?" Lizzy began to strain her neck.

"No, no, don't look. Act natural." Charlotte calmed her, placing a comforting hand on Lizzy's upper arm. "Damn, he looks good."

"Shush, you. Besides a nice jawline doesn't make up for the constipated personality of a fu-"

"Miss Bennet."

Lizzy stopped her thought abruptly, closing her eyes in a hesitated blink before turning to the gravelly voice.

"Mr. Darcy." She turned around, never-failing to lose her breath at the sight of William Darcy. He looked marvelous today, the light colors of his clothes revealing the golden undertones of his skin. Darcy's fawn eyes gazed scrutinizingly down his strong nose, and his body lengthened to its full stature.

"Your speech proved effective."

"And to what effect do you accuse me of attempting to achieve?"

"Humor… Delight… I suppose all the other prenuptial emotions one feels."

Lizzy laughed. "Oh, I do love a sensitive man."

Darcy's blood warmed slightly. "Miss Bennet, I was wondering if I might have the chance to converse with you before the day is over."

"I'd say your chances are good." Lizzy looked around discreetly. "Yes, let's go, before my mother can find us."

Darcy nodded, looking rather condescendingly towards the squat woman talking loudly to a nearby couple with a complexion similar to Elizabeth's. He followed her out from under the shaded protection of the tent. The bright sun hit them both viciously, albeit its outline of Lizzy was quite advantageous for William: as they stalked through the high grass behind the white-paneled ranch, the orange rays of the sun alighted the outline of Elizabeth's voluptuous figure through the thin confines of her white jumpsuit.

Lizzy came to stop around the other corner of her home, hidden from the view of the party-goers, but still with an equine audience. She felt better with her pseudo-witnesses, not completely trusting herself around Darcy.

"Is this what you had in mind?"

"To a tee." William walked a couple feet off, stopping at the wooden fence. He leaned on it in a casual way, that appeared almost practiced-enough to betray his inner anxiety.

"So, Mr. Darcy… what would you like to discuss?"

"I've been thinking about what happened earlier this week… and the week before…"

Lizzy shifted visibly. Reaching down to pick at a tall weed grazing her upper leg. "As have I…"

"It seems to me that we have an undeniable attraction. I was wondering if you would be interested in pursuing it - no strings attached of course. I don't expect any type of personal relationship outside of it, and I - "

"I'm sorry?" Lizzy's countenance had transformed most drastically, her rosy cheeks now fueled by a fierce glare directed at Darcy's meandering monologue. "Please, please, tell me you're joking."

Darcy stiffened, affronted by her response. "I realize this might be a rather surprising proposition, but I assumed after our… connections… the past few weeks that you might seek something more… and, I know you've been raised under certain values in your family, though I can't imagine how you were brought up under your mother - nevertheless, I am attracted to you… you must know I only came to such a conclusion after many restless nights attempting to best conjure a solution beneficial to us both..." he slowed slightly.

Lizzy took a deep breath, turning slightly away from Darcy to channel her rage and organize a riposte. She picked mindlessly at the fuzzy-tipped weeds caressing her upper calves. Moments later, unable to successfully temper her ire, she spun around. Her hands were balled into fasts by her side, and she felt a heated blush rising from her chest. "Mr. Darcy." Lizzy paused, stalking closer to her prey. "First, I would like to apologize that I am - my body is - the primary agent of your 'restless nights;' please know, your insomnia was not a conscious infliction of mine."

"Do you mean to joke-"

"Secondly," Lizzy interrupted his sputterings. "I will not enter into a relationship based solely on physical appeal if it does not work to my interest. And I know you Darcy. You care little for women, less possibly than a man whose acquaintance we share - George Wickham? A characteristic I thought limited to that one individual. How can I enter into a relationship - even if it is only sexual - with a man I know has more respect for my boobs than my brain?"

"Elizabeth, that is not at all what I-"

"Also," Lizzy interrupted him once again. "How are we to continue a professional relationship? Let alone the fact that you humiliated me - have humiliated me numerous times - you seem to show no serious guilt for your insultuous nature. Yes, you've apologized for the crude things you said back in Paris - but don't think I don't see the way you look at me and at my family. I can see no way to progress when you are so intent on remaining a pretentious dick." She huffed, at peace with her soliloquy. Lizzy's chest moved rapidly, her face and upper-body now stained a lovely light pink.

"I won't pretend that your family's antics haven't been less-than agreeable. Are you so repulsed by me, you can't realize that I want to be with you besides this? Even so, Jane and Charles are still together so what does it really matter -"

"Want to be with me? You want to be with my body, despite my family! Tell me Mr. Darcy, do you hear the words coming out of your mouth? As for Jane and Charles - nothing about my family or our connections should have had any impact on your judgement of Jane! She is a sweet girl who cares very much for Mr. Bingley, and, whether you're his friend or not, you most certainly have NO authority over their love."

William paused, taking in Lizzy's bright eyes, shocked by the anger that lie behind them. He switched topics, picking up on one of her earlier comments. "Tell me, Miss Bennet, how often is it that you drunkenly flirt with men such as George Wickham? Are you such a romantic you can't see past his… his… mask?"

"Drunkenly flirt? As for your information, Mr. Darcy - though it happens to be none of your business - we went on a date. And, now that I recall the evening - as unpleasant as it might have been - I would much rather be there than here, right now!"

"You know nothing of Wickham, Elizabeth. In fact, you know nothing at all. You're a child- I should've noticed sooner."

"Who are you to judge Wickham? He told me of his misfortunes - a result of your own greed. I do hope Darcy, that after you have finished ostracizing every person in your life that your selfishness proves a worthy companion, for it seems that's all you will have left." Lizzy stepped closer to her target, not ready to back down. "And me, a child? Oh, you act the child! Throwing a fit because he couldn't buy himself sex? What a lowdown fucker you must be if you-"

"Lizzy!" cried a girlish voice. The pair, dangerously close and invested completely in their conversation, failed to notice the short, curvy girl round the corner of the house after hearing the heated exchange.

Elizabeth whipped her head to the right, taking in the sight of Lydia looking at her, slightly bemused. Darcy looked as well, blinking slightly after initially believing himself to be looking at Lizzy's doppelganger. The girl was a tad shorter, and her hair a bit straighter, but at first glance she was a dead ringer for Elizabeth's twin.

"You have to come. Jane's been looking for you forever." Lydia's voice carried a slight whine to it.

"I'm sorry to have taken up your time Miss Bennet." Darcy apologized through gritted teeth, looking over his foe with a steely gaze. Lizzy's eyes were all fire, blazing with the hunger for another battle. He yanked his eyes away and walked quickly back to the front of the house, not bothering to bid farewell before taking off towards San Francisco, considerably sore from his verbal-beating.

Lizzy sighed audibly, watching as the tall male specimen strutted off, his square shoulders failing to completely hide his wounded-ego. She smiled to herself, proud of her own victory - but Elizabeth also felt a disappointing confusion settling at the bottom of her gut. She pushed it down further and looked to Lydia.

"What the fuck was going on back here?" Lydia crossed her arms, looking at her elder sister expectantly. She was amused by the obvious tension between the pair - despite the discord hanging in the air currently.

"Nothing." Lizzy's smile disappeared, and she walked steadily past her younger sister towards the mounting-hoopla.

"Oh come on, Lizzy. I've been around the block enough to know what chemistry looks like… you and Daddy Warbucks seem to have loads of it…"

Lizzy turned around, looking her sister in the eyes. "Enough, Lydia. Don't tell anyone what you saw. Promise me?"

Lydia's eyes glowed and an impish smile grew on her face. "So you two are a couple! Oh, go you, Lizzy! Really, that man is absolute gorgeous, no matter how stuck up he -"

"Lydia!"

"Fine, fine, I won't say anything..." Lydia rolled her eyes.

Lizzy exhaled in mild relief.

"Only if you convince dad to let me come stay with you once I get out for summer." Lydia finished, a victorious glint in her visage.

"Why in the world would you want to stay with me?"

"I want to go to the city! Oh, Lizzy it'll be so fun! We can go to parties, and bars, and…" Lydia trailed off, overwhelmed by the potential social life lying before her.

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "I'll be working. And you can get a job. Maybe straighten out your priorities for once."

Lydia pouted briefly, but soon was distracted by the sight of Kitty as the ambling duo arrived back at the party.

Lizzy watched her run off before locating Charlotte by the hors d'oeuvres. "Do you mind if we leave?"

Charlotte looked up from her perusal of the tray, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Not at all. Just let me say bye to my parents."

Lizzy too kissed her family bye, warning her parents of Lydia's summer plans before wishing luck to her sister and Charles.

"Say, Lizzy, have you seen where Darce scurried off to?"

"Erm… no, Charles, sorry. I think he left."

Mr. Bingley nodded. "I figured this would be a bit out of his comfort zone. Stupid bloke, could've at least had a chat with me."

Lizzy shook her head sympathetically, feeling the scrutinizing gaze of Jane as she watched her younger sister's actions. She gave her sister one last kiss before half-running, half-walking out to her car, ready to leave the whole shindig in the dust.

* * *

"Lizzy. It's been four days. Can you please tell me what happened at the party that was so bad it made you want to leave an hour early?"

It was Wednesday afternoon. Lizzy sat at her desk, eating a Caesar salad and reviewing her calendar, her desk phone propped between her ear and shoulder. "Charlotte. I've already told you. I just wanted to get away from my parents… too suffocating. I knew I should've taken that job in Chicago…"

"Elizabeth Bennet, I know that is not the reason as to your hasty departure. I'm not going to force it out of you because I sense a piss-drunk night approaching where you will unconsciously divulge all, so that nicely negates all future legwork in extracting the information from you."

Lizzy laughed.

"But, when inevitable-night does arrive, please wait until after I get back from L.A. on Saturday."

"Heavens, what are you doing in L.A.?"

"Didn't Jane tell you? She got a call about doing some guest-writing in Marie Claire. We're heading up there to determine whether or not we can make this at least a semi-permanent thing."

"Mmm." Lizzy nodded, her mouth full. She swallowed audibly. "Well, I won't be able to drink for at least several weeks until I'm finished with this damn case."

"When's your next meeting with Mr. Darcy?"

Lizzy could feel Charlotte's slight anticipation at her response. "This Friday, I'm afraid. Hopefully he's figured how to remove his head from his own ass by now."

Charlotte laughed loudly. "Oh, Lizzy… well, do call me after it's over. I'm thirsty for more tales of emasculation."

"Did your date not go well the other night?"

"Terrible would be a generous understatement."

"Oh, god. Tell me about it."

"Not much to tell. He runs a cotton-candy booth on the pier. Wore a gold chain and pronounced the "t" in filet mignon."

Lizzy cringed. "I'm sorry, Char… I do believe our plan to retire as spinsters is looking relatively feasible at this point."

The girls talked a while longer, Lizzy relishing her brief respite from work. She twirled the cord of her obsolete desk-phone mindlessly, stabbing her plastic fork unsuccessfully into the light-green spines of her Romaine lettuce. Some twenty minutes later she heard a heavy, indecisive, knock at her door. Lizzy whispered conspiratorially into the mouthpiece, "I'm going to pretend I'm on the phone with a client… bear with me."

"Come in," Lizzy called, pushing her salad to the side and straightening her posture.

"Elizabeth." Bill Collins poked his obtuse head through her door.

Lizzy gestured him in. "Yes, Bill? What can I help you with?"

Bill cleared his throat, and Lizzy grew irritated as she felt a non-work related conversation following. "I was actually going to inquire about dinner tonight… I know you're free - I heard you telling Mariah earlier today in the break room…"

"Oh," Lizzy's face fell as she struggled to come up with an excuse. Bingo. "Bill, I would absolutely love to go to dinner with you-" His face alighted. "- but I'm afraid it's my ethical duty to decline."

Bill's brows furrowed. "How so?"

"Well, you see, my dearest friend Charlotte - you remember her right? - spotted you at the Christmas Party and hasn't stopped talking of you since… I would be such a terrible friend if I were to give in. Do you see?" Lizzy gave him what she hoped was a defeated expression.

Bill chuckled. "Elizabeth, there's no need for you to be a martyr, I am much more -"

"No, no - I must decline. But, I'm sure Charlotte would just love for the chance to spend the evening with you…" Lizzy trailed off.

"Well," Bill fiddled with his gold belt-buckle. "I suppose an evening spent with any female comrade of you dear Lizzy couldn't possibly be spent poorly." He gave her a greasy grin.

"Great," Lizzy's smile was buoyant, lifting up quickly before falling just as fast. "Now if you don't mind, I have some files I still need to fax before five."

Bill waved awkwardly before leaving.

Lizzy pulled the receiver back to her mouth. "Charlotte I have great news!"

"What?" Charlotte sounded suspicious.

"A date with a man from my office." Lizzy declared, a slight twinge of guilt in her gut.

"Lizzy, we literally just talked about how the species of men as a whole is a despicable construct of society - and you just jumped at the first opportunity to set me up with some pre-political swine?"

Lizzy scoffed. "He's got money. Just go, have a nice meal… it won't be that bad."

"I hate you."

"Love you, Char."

Lizzy clicked the receiver shut and returned to her work, shoving another piece of lettuce in her mouth before tossing her salad container in the trash.

* * *

After her conversation with Charlotte, Lizzy had little association with the outside world. She watched as the end of April approached, flowers blossomed but their cheery pink seemed to only tease her own uncertainty. The court date for Andrew Crawley's case was appointed on May 23 - three weeks away.

It was 11 a.m. on a Thursday morning - Lizzy had an extended break for Easter - when she wondered downstairs, hair in an unwashed knot, hands stuffed in the pockets of an old blue robe. Her voicemail was lit up, so she stabbed the play button slightly disgruntled.

"LIzzy!" Her mother's shrill shriek reverberated throughout the room. "Lydia informed me of her plans to come stay with you…sounds like a great plan to me - you can take her to see some shops, maybe down to the Lathrams on Whitaker? Ann Marie is always bragging about that pasty little girl of hers - Lydia can wear that new green top it'll look so good…" Mrs. Bennet continued, her booming voice echoing throughout Lizzy's downstairs. She rambled into her kitchen, a bowl of cereal in her hands as her mother's message went on. "So, anyway," Mrs. Bennet picked up after some time. "Lydia will be there at the end of next week. Treat her well! And go to the gym." The line clicked. LIzzy stared down the offending answering machine.

The light still blinked. LIzzy hit the play button once more. "Lizzy?" A serene voice floated through the air. "I'm in New York for the weekend. Come won't you? Charles isn't here, we can have some necessary girl time! I miss you so much, and I desperately need to laugh before this wedding… I'm not sure I remember why I wanted to get married three months after my engagement… Call me when you get this! I've emailed a voucher."

Lizzy swallowed, squinting as the message ended. She set down her cereal bowl and threw her body into the couch, moaning dramatically in the pillow. Jane.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 _A/N: I know, I'm awful! I was stuck at procrastination station for a looonnggg time, as well as the fact that I'm outright lazy and wasn't really feeling any direction with this story. But I powered through, and I think I know what I want now. Yip yip. I'm planning to right the next chapter with some of Darcy's perspective. Thanks for reading! XX_

"Lizzy, you made it!" Jane's squeal was piercing.

Elizabeth was unprepared to receive her sister's hug, but received it nonetheless. It was 11:30 p.m., twelve hours after she received Jane's voicemail, that Lizzy arrived on the doorstep of Jane's apartment in Greenwich Village. A seven hour plane ride and three hour-time change later, and Lizzy had emerged into the bright city in a less-than fashionable oversized flannel and decade-old pair of Uggs. Bags in tow, Lizzy moved past the exuberant Jane into her modest living, throwing her Vera Bradley set onto the patterned loveseat. She slumped on the white couch, peering around the room through sleepy eyes. "You put up some new art." She gestured to a Pollock esque piece featuring a naked woman adorning the wall opposite.

Jane's eyes followed Lizzy's hand. "Oh, yeah, you like it? I picked it up in a market uptown… so, what're we gonna do? Watch a movie? A Streetcar Named Desire? Dirty Dancing? Mani-pedis? Cupcakes?"

"Whoa, slow down." Lizzy braced her sister's jumping figure. "First, I'm going to need a drink."

"Coffee?"

"Jose Cuervo?"

"Martini?"

"You're a saint, baby." Lizzy smiled as her sister skipped to the kitchen in matching satin pink pajamas, her hair in a blonde braid down her back.

Lizzy got up, moving her bags down the narrow hallway to her sister's master. There was a white comforter on a bed, and a mirror framed by distressed wood in the corner. She took a breath and went back out into the hallway.

"Now, come sit. I desperately need to know why my favorite sister is so damned moody these days."

Lizzy turned to the sound of Jane's voice, joining her fair sister on the sofa. She took her glass appreciatively and turned down the volume of a _Frazier_ rerun. "Moody?"

"Yes. While you're not a typically chipper person dear Elizabeth, I'd usually be victim of multiple stabbing jests by now. What's up?"

Lizzy snuggled further into the sofa, unsure how to answer her sister's inquiry. "Nothing, really - and not all of us are bubbling with the effervescence of imminent marriage." She gave her sister a pointed stare.

"Nothing, hmm? Is 'nothing' code for whatever happened between you and William at the party two weeks ago?"

"William? Mr. Darcy? What in the world could you mean by that?"

"Well, Charlie told me that Will has barely talked to him since the party, and I know you two had a conversation… what did he say to you?"

Lizzy looked her sister in the eye. "You can't tell me you don't have any guesses."

"So something did happen?"

Lizzy looked toward the window. "I don't know… he just… wanted something more from me, and I hadn't… anticipated his proposition concerning his prior behavior."

Jane nodded slowly. "No details?"

Lizzy gave her sister a sad smile. "Not yet. Soon, maybe."

Her sister nodded in understanding. The two sisters sat in silence a while longer.

"So," Lizzy began again, trying to perk her sister up. "Tell me more about the wedding."

Jane lit up, and Lizzy was happy to sit and listen to her sister talk animatedly deep into the night.

* * *

The two woke early the next morning, a tangle of limbs under the plush cream of the duvet. Lizzy was the first to acknowledge her consciousness, opening her eyes and squinting at the light streaming unapologetically onto her face.

Lizzy turned on her pillow to look at her sister. "Jane."

"Yes, Lizzy." Jane murmured back, not quite awake.

"We've kissed. Twice. It was almost more the second time."

Jane opened her eyes slowly, but said nothing in reply.

"He wanted more from me. Just sex. I said no… he's been such a douche. And we are working on the same case. Why would he even begin to think I could…" Lizzy trailed off, rolling onto her back.

A couple minutes passed it. "He actually proposed… planned hookups?" Jane's voice was rough with sleep.

"Yeah."

"Wow."

"So, you'd be like… fuck buddies?"

"Yeah."

"Wow."

Lizzy could feel Jane's eyes on her. She flipped over and got out of bed, walking towards the shower, not wanting to discuss the matter any more.

* * *

An hour later, Lizzy was following her sister into Tavern on the Green, a traditional brunch spot for the pair.

Jane smiled charmingly at the maitre'd. A booth was presented for the attractive sisters.

"So." Jane picked up a menu. "Are we going to talk about what you said this morni-"

"No." Lizzy cut her off. "I'm fine. Everything's fine."

"...ok."

A brief pause passed.

"What do you have planned to entertain me this weekend?" Lizzy gave her elder sister a sugary smile.

"Well," Jane tucked a wisp of her baby blonde hair back into her messy chignon. "I was thinking shopping and fine-dining today…"

"I approve." Lizzy nodded.

Jane giggled. "And tomorrow, erm… Charles is coming to town…"

"Oh, god, can't stand to be away from your sweet lovin' for more than two days? What happened to that little promise that Charles would not be making an appearance this weekend"

"Stop it," Jane's cheeks grew a rosy pink, but she smiled. "I am sorry, and I didn't lie - he's not staying in Manhattan… he's going to Hewlett Bay Park."

"Hewlett Bay? Swanky. What is he doing there? I've never heard of a traveling pediatrician." Lizzy smiled as the server brought them Bloody Marys.

"He's actually going to stay with William…"

"Ah," Lizzy nodded in sudden understanding. "The famous Darcy estate."

"I was thinking about inviting him to join us tomorrow, a show possibly? I could find tickets? Or maybe some 5th Avenue perusing? Charles mentioned bringing along another one of his groomsmen… Richard something? but of course, you are in no way expected to come, maybe you could -" Jane began to ramble with guilt.

"No, no… I'll um, I'll go with you."

Jane's head whipped up. "You will?"

Lizzy bit off a piece of bacon. "Yes."

"And you're sure?"

She tore off more. "Yes"

Jane stared at her, but Lizzy avoided all eye contact. She was reluctant to see other men even though she needed to. Why get caught up on one man? But, something within Lizzy wanted to see Darcy, and even though she was probably the last person he wanted to see,s he felt drawn to him - unsure about her decision, but determined to eventually clear the air between the two.

* * *

It was 8:30 a.m. on Saturday as Lizzy watched Jane twirl around in her closet - a space purposely renovated so that it was almost as large as the living room and kitchen put together.

"How do I look?"

Lizzy laughed. "Babe, I thought we agreed you'd stop asking that question a long time ago, when we both know you look good."

Jane pouted jokingly before her face cracked open with a small smile. Her figure looked stunning in wide-leg white jeans and wide wedges, both accentuating her thin figure.

Lizzy moved to sit on the small stool before the vanity. She rubbed her half-dry hair with a towel and watched as she scrunched her nose in the mirror.

Jane moved to stand behind her, putting on another coat of pink lipstick and fluffing her hair.

"Ugh," Lizzy banged her head on the table. "You make it so hard to be a modern woman."

Jane looked at her. "What do you mean?"

Lizzy didn't move her head. "Just - nevermind."

Half an hour later the Bennett girls sat on the 9 o'clock subway out to 96th Street where they were meeting Charles. Lizzy's brown curls were strewn over the seat, high-in-volume from lack of styling. She wore a short baby-blue bell-sleeved dress and a pair of beat-up Keds, her girlish style a far cry from Jane's high-fashion tastes. Even on the train ride through Manhattan, the disparities between the sisters were evident: Jane sat upright with clean posture, mindlessly thumbing W before moving to a copy of Gone Girl; Lizzy sat across the aisle, lying horizontally across the row with her feet propped on the wall of the train. Her headphones were in, a shuffle of Prince songs scrolling through her mind. Lizzy wondered sometimes, as incredibly sappy as it was, how, despite being sisters, they ever grew to be such good friends.

Her musings keeping her good company, Lizzy hardly noticed when the train arrived at the station. The girls grabbed their bags, and, shielding their eyes from the bright sun, looked out into Central Park.

"Did they take a cab out?" Lizzy asked after several minutes of squinty-eyed searching.

"Actually…" Jane nodded towards a green Jeep Wrangler parked on a side street. The strawberry-blonde mop of Charles appeared out the window, his lanky arm following in a friendly wave.

Jane squealed and jogged to the car. Lizzy shook her head and followed her happy sister.

"Hey, there Liz," Charles smiled good naturedly as his soon-to-be sister-in-law approached the car. Jane was wrapped around his form, giving her fiance an airtight hug. She released him and planted a kiss on his neck, laughing happily.

"Hi Charlie." Lizzy reached up and gave him a quick hug.

A tall, stocky man slipped out of the passenger side of the car.

"This is Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam." Charles gestured to his friend.

"You can call me Fitz… How do you do ladies?" Richard gave Lizzy and Jane a wide, cheery grin.

"I'm Lizzy," Elizabeth stuck out her hand, giving Fitz a broad smile.

Jane gave Richard a small wave and grin, as she remained latched onto Charles's side. "And I'm Jane."

"Unfortunately, Jane has recently become totally attached to Charlie's hip… It's tragic, really… takes her hours to put on pants. We've seen so many doctors, no one can seem to find a cure." Lizzy teased.

Fitz gave a loud, hearty laugh, and Jane blushed. "Let's walk, shall we? Maybe grab some tea at Alice's?" She suggested, eager to pull Charles away from her younger sister's jeering stabs. The pair strolled slowly past Strawberry Fields; Fitz proffered his arm to Elizabeth who accepted it willingly.

"So… Colonel?" Lizzy began, a teasing twinkle in her eye.

Fitz puffed his chest out and adopted a stuffy tone: "That would be correct madam. While I would appreciate some sign of reverence, bowing is unnecessary."

Lizzy took the bait, standing straighter and pointing her nose in the air. "I would expect to be nothing less than totally subservient to you, sir." She huffed, equally haughty.

Fitz chuckled. "I did a couple years at West Point… was deployed after graduation. Now I do some work, here and there."

"Wow. West Point."

"How about yourself?"

"Oh, I was painfully traditional. Four years at UVA, law school at Stanford - my dad teaches there. Of course my mother was dreadfully insistent on my moving back home, but I -" Lizzy blushed. "I just realized I'm revealing a lot of my personal life here." She chuckled shamefully.

"UVA? Stanford? An educated woman… no wonder my cousin likes you so much." Fitz shook his head.

"Your cousin?"

"Will."

"Ah." Lizzy looked ahead with understanding and slight surprise. "I'm not so sure 'like' is the right word… I'm afraid Mr. Darcy looks quite unfavorably upon me."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that… I fear dear William is quite smitten."

Lizzy blushed. "I don't think I could ever imagine Mr. Darcy being 'smitten.' He's rather stoic... "

"Oh yes, Will has mastered the solemnity of the reaper… but those who know him like I do also know what a funny chap he is, bright too, you know, one time -"

Lizzy listened with interest, turning to peer at her companion.

"Actually, I better not tell you any story about my cousin lest I feel the wrath of William Darcy." Fitz looked forward sheepishly.

Lizzy, albeit disappointed, nodded in understanding. She paused before broaching the topic again. "Did you spend a lot of time with Mr. Darcy as a child as well?"

"Loads… I was more an uncle than a cousin, really, to Georgiana. Hell, I helped Darcy raise the girl."

"He did tell me Georgiana was ten years his junior... I have four sisters myself, but we are all so close."

"Oh, it was more than just the age gap… Will's parents were terribly absent. His mother was kind've a society figure - a good mother, but busy. She passed very shortly after Georgiana's birth, Will was distraught. He was very close to his mom, y'know? But his dad, he.. He played around a little bit on the Mrs. Darcy, and, after she passed… I don't know, he suffered from guilt, drove him to drink - Mr. Darcy died shortly after Will's graduation from law school from liver failure."

"God…." Lizzy murmured gazing toward the ground. "I didn't realize - I mean… I don't think I would've treated him any differently… I'm not even sure-" Lizzy trailed off, perplexed in the face of her emotions. _Even if Darcy does have this pitiable backstory… can I allow him to treat me like this?_

Fitz seemed to read her mind. "The man still manages to come off as a complete ass, but don't… don't count him out yet. There are more layers to him than you probably realize."

Lizzy nodded, looking forward as Charles wrapped his arm around Jane. She was a proud girl, with high expectations - expectations Mr. Darcy had failed, and Lizzy wasn't sure she could rise above the insult to show compassion, but, if anything, she was intrigued, even now more than ever.

* * *

Elizabeth flipped her pink day planner: May 1st. She winced slightly. In a little more than two weeks Andrew Crawley's looming case would take place. Lizzy pulled her silk blazer off and twisted her dry curls into a loose chignon at the nape of her neck. San Francisco was pretty and warm, but Lizzy could only squint at the sun with passive irritation, tired from jet lag - she had arrived home from New York only 36 hours previous to her workday - and an itching boredom. Jane hadn't failed to talk her ear-off - about the wedding, of course, as well as drag her younger sister to every overpriced label and frumpy boutique the streets of Manhattan has to offer.

Hours passed. Lizzy had a meeting, got some work done - work I'm gonna have to redo, Lizzy thought cynically, cursing her lack of focus. The end of the day came quick - a surprise since the hours seemed to drag on. Gathering up her coat and briefcase, she drew the blinds of her office close on the warm California sunset. She waved a goodbye to Mariah and plodded in sore feet towards the elevators, ducking stealthily below a cubicle wall at Bill Collins's oncoming figure. Packing into her old Volvo, Lizzy picked up the ring of her phone, not bothering to peer at the contact name.

"Yes?"

"Lizzy?!" a familiar voice shrieked.

"Mother." the corners of Lizzy's mouth turned down slightly.

"Your enthusiasm in greeting your only mother is sheerly overwhelming." Her mother said wryly.

Lizzy smiled at that. She forgot her mom could be funny. "I'm sorry, mom. What's up?"

"Tsk." Fanny Bennet hated slang. "You know Lydia's coming tomorrow right?"

Lizzy's eyebrows pulled together. "Tomorrow? Wait - What… I thought she was coming Friday?"

"If it's a problem…" Mrs. Bennet trailed off, the conclusion to her thought needing no voice.

"It's not a problem," Lizzy huffed, pulling her car out into the road. "I'm just busy. This case is killing me, I'm not sure I can even win, let alone garner a fair settlement, hopefully -"

"Oh my, speaking of!" Mrs. Bennet trilled, interrupting her daughter. Lizzy clenched her jaw. "Lydie told me she saw you talking to that gorgeous Mr. Darcy at the engagement soiree!"

Lizzy swore under her breath. Lydia. "Actually, mother, William Darcy is working on the Crawley case with me." She felt her mother's momentary confusion.

"Jane never mentioned he worked at your firm, how peculiar?"

"He doesn't work at my firm." Lizzy didn't elaborate.

"What do you mean? He's working on the case with - oh. Oh. Oh Lizzy, this is dreadful! You two made such a fine pair, and of course he'll never go with you, now that you've to go all "educated-Lizzy" on him in court… my, what a shame… you know, I -"

"What time is Lydia coming tomorrow, mother?"

"4 p.m. She'll come to your office, I know you work God-knows-what hours. Really Lizzy, if you're going to work so long, perhaps you should invest in some anti-aging cream, I'm sure it would do wonders-"

"Sounds good. I've gotta run, mom." Lizzy pulled onto her street, muttering 'byes' and 'love yous' before ending the call with a pointed tap of her thumb.

* * *

Lizzy shuffled into work the next day, a steaming cup of black coffee slowly burning her palm through its cardboard sleeve.

"Good morning Elizabeth."

Lizzy turned to body of the greeting voice. She plastered a smile on her face and chirped back an equally cheery, "Good morning, Mr. Brandon."

Often nicknamed "Colonel", Mr. Brandon was a senior lawyer at the firm, as well as best friends with Mr. Young - one of the firm's partners. Though Brandon had no explicit authority over Lizzy, he treated his seniority as a promotion and was significantly patronizing to the latter. The man was ultimately a rather stale curmudgeon who Elizabeth tolerated. He came up next to Lizzy, shifting a folder under his arm and placing a hand on her lower back - as if guiding Lizzy to her office. She flinched infinitesimally but remained serene.

"I understand you're battling the insurmountable Mr. Darcy soon?"

"Yes… the court date is in a month." Lizzy answered placidly, a layer of ice underneath her features.

"Just let me know if you need any pointers - I've heard he's fiery."

Lizzy almost lost oxygen in an effort to keep from rolling her eyes. _Male chauvinistic misogynistic_ \- "Will do, Mr. Brandon, thank you." Lizzy peeled quickly away from Brandon's hovering arm into her office, making eye contact with Mariah's sympathetic gaze before closing her office door.

Lizzy worked diligently the rest of the day, taking a short break around 1 p.m. to answer a call from Charlotte.

"Welcome back, jet-setter."

"Haha." Lizzy laughed, stabbing at a piece of microwaved pasta. "I've traveled more for Jane in these past two months than I have cumulatively in the past three years."

"How was New York?"

"Pretty good. I saw Charles, and I met one of his groomsmen, Richard Fitzwilliam who was actually pretty cool, despite of course, being related to the Royal Ass himself…"

"Speaking of," Charlotte prodded.

"Still not talking about it," Lizzy sang.

"Ok, ok." Her friend backed off.

"So…"

"So…" Charlotte mocked Lizzy's tone.

"So, are we going to talk about the infamous date? You and Bill Collins? Was it bad? How bad? As bad as the puppeteer, or are we talking the sixth-year student living in the frat house?" Lizzy was referring to the date she unabashedly arranged between the two that had miraculously taken place during her sojourn to New York.

Charlotte laughed. "No, no…"

"Oh my god it was worse. Fuck, Charlotte, I don't know how to make this up to you… he's just always loitering around, like some sick puppy - no, not a puppy, like some - some, leech! Yes, he's stuck to my door like a leech, and I didn't know how to pry him off -"

"Elizabeth, as much fun as that analogy is, I don't think it needs to continue," Charlotte chastised. "Actually the date was unlike anything I've ever been on - William was such a gentleman. It's nice having that kind of chivalry around, y'know?"

Lizzy's pasta spilled out of her agape mouth. "Sorry. First off, William? Second, Charlotte Helen Lucas, are you, my best friend in this entire world, telling me that you like Billy Collins?" _Sniveling, squelching, squire to Satan,_ Lizzy continued in her mind.

"I certainly like him. I was quite content with the way he treated me… I haven't felt so admired in such a long time, it was so refreshing - would you stop?" Charlotte interrupted herself to further admonish Lizzy's sputterings into the telephone receiver.

Lizzy shut her mouth. "Charlotte, how many dates did you go on while I was out of town?"

"Three."

"I was gone three days."

"I don't know what to tell you. We just kind of hit it off."

"Did you…?"

"I'm not going to play coy, like _some people_ I know. Yes, we had sex."

"And?" Lizzy ignored her friend's mild subliminal message.

"Not the worst I've had."

"Charlotte, tell me, do you see this going anywhere?"

"Lizzy, it just started, but honestly - I'm so sick of all the men who've treated me like shit, it's just… nice to feel like this again…" Charlotte continued on while Lizzy, no longer ravenous, twirled cold noodles around her plastic fork. As much as she loved Charlotte, Elizabeth had never viewed love as pragmatic as her best friend. Marriage was no necessity - if she found love, yes, maybe she'd get married, but the institution was not some demanding goal that sat forefront in her mind, and she was just 24 after all… but Charlotte was so, defeated - did her poor friend really have no hope left in the population of men as a whole - _I have an idea_ , Lizzy quickly interrupted her own stream of consciousness.

"Charlotte?" Her friend huffed, annoyed at being interrupted, yet fairly used to it. "Have you tried dating women?"

Charlotte paused. "Lizzy, please tell me you don't think dating William Collins to be as deadly as ending any relationship with men, period?"

Lizzy hesitated.

"I know you don't like him, but for my sake, would you please step down from that high horse and get to know the man? Maybe, a dinner, the three of us? You can't honestly denigrate my own judgement so much as to think that William would be that bad of a person?"

"I guess so…" Lizzy finally acquiesced. "Listen, call me later with some dates, I got a pile of work… there's a new pho place right by my office, but I don't know how Billy feels about Vietnamese…"

"Right. I'll get back to you… see you later Liz."

"Bye, Charlotte." Lizzy placed the phone slowly back on its receiver. She threw away her pasta and opened her door. "Any messages for me, Mariah?"

Her baby-faced secretary looked up. "Um, yeah… you have one page from Human Resources - some new form needs to be turned in by Tuesday, and a call from Pemberley, Andrews, & Oxford… your line was busy, so I figured you'd just want me to take a message…"

"Who was calling from the firm?"

"Mr. Darcy, of course, why?" Mariah looked at her boss quizzically.

"Right. Well, I'll listen to the message later, I've got some work…" Lizzy gestured aimlessly to her desk. "Oh, and, I'm expecting my sister in an hour or two… please send her in when she arrives. Granted of course she can even make it up to this floor." Lizzy added the last bit dryly, a tone her secretary didn't seem able to pick up on.

"No problem." Mariah nodded.

Lizzy gave her a quick nodded and headed back into her office.

The hours leading up to Lydia's impending arrival were both glacial and encroaching. Elizabeth made a phone call or two, once in a while peering at the sticky note with Darcy's message on it, before consciously turning her thoughts away from her opponent. She played a game of solitaire on her computer, worked on her case, chatted with another employee, and sat.

Finally, at 4:42 p.m., her wooden door flew open to reveal a giggling girl with two strapping young men, their shoulders burdened with flowery-pink duffel bags. As the boys set the bags down, Lydia turned to her sister.

"Lizzy!" she shrieked.

Lizzy looked to the scene and gave a small smile. "Lydia. Quite the welcome wagon." She quirked her eyebrow but still embraced her sister.

The two boys stood awkwardly by the doorway.

"Are they expecting a tip?" Lizzy turned wryly to her sister.

"That's all… bye now." Lydia waved to the boys, her attention easily stolen by the appearance of her favorite sister.

Lizzy sat down. "My, what a sweet talker… I have to finish up something real quick, do you mind waiting?"

Lydia shook her head 'no.' In appearance, Lydia and Lizzy were very similar - often mistaken for twins rather than the seven year age gap they shared. Lydia's hair was straighter, and her body curvier, but they shared twinkling eyes and full lips. She wandered around Lizzy's office for ten minutes, staring inquisitively at the lack of personal decor, barring the singular desk and shelf of books.

Lizzy finished her email, and, with a quick perusal, hit send. She turned to gather her sweater and bag.

"What's this? 'W. Darcy 1:30'?"

Lizzy turned. "Erm, it's a voicemail… I'll listen to it tomorrow."

"Ooh, a voicemail? From Mr. Darcy?" Lydia sang in a girlish voice. She lowered her eyes, and in a gravelly voice breathed, "is it dirty?"

Lizzy cringed. "Lydia, please don't… c'mon, help me get your stuff."

Lydia put the sticky note down, the 'knowing' glint of a seventeen-year old in her eye, and giggled before picking up the lighter of the two bags. She marched confidently out of Lizzy's office towards the elevator in her tiny daisy dukes, smiling widely at the male interns as she did so.

Lizzy locked her office door, and trudged after her half-nude sister, struggling to walk in her pencil skirt and pumps, as well as carry Lydia's 20 pound bag. She watched as her sister waved flirtatiously and without abandon before boarding the elevator, thinking, _This girl is bound for trouble._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 _A/N: For those of you sticking with me, (1) I am terribly sorry, (2) you have ALL my love. Forgive me for inconsistencies and inaccuracies... I'm just a poor girl trying to survive the chaos. Also, the M rating is coming! XX_

"Promise you'll call me when you land?"

"I promise."

"Will, I need you to mean it… I'm so afraid that when you get all the way to California you live the most dismal bachelor life - only a block of cheese and bottle of Vodka in the fridge… I mean, I've never even seen your apartment, it's probably some cold, dreary place - furniture probably mail-ordered straight from the pages of Restoration Hardware. Do you even have pictures? Paintings? Oh, I must -"

"Georgiana!" William Darcy interrupted his sister.

"Sorry." Georgiana gave him a sheepish smile, the wheat of her hair glowing in the afternoon sunlight.

The siblings stood outside Terminal 1 at JFK on Wednesday afternoon. William Darcy stood tall over his younger sister who slouched casually in a jean skirt and loose long-sleeve tee, her arms wrapped snugly around her thin body as she bid her brother good-bye.

"You'll keep me updated on school?" Will sternly asked his sister.

Georgiana suppressed an eye roll, "Yes… and you'll keep me updated on work?"

"It'll bore you."

"I don't care. You never come home, so I'll take what I can get… of course, come just a few days, and I won't need to rely on one measly phone call a week…"

William quirked an eyebrow as his sister rambled. After Georgiana's school year ended she was joining her brother in San Francisco for the first part of her summer.

"And please, please, keep me updated on Charlie's wedding. I've bought my dress of course, but I would love some details."

Will checked his watch. "I'm afraid I really must go, do tell Mrs. Reynolds thank you."

Georgiana quieted. "Of course. We'll miss you. I'll see you in a week… you have the details on my flight?"

Her brother nodded and pulled Georgiana into a hug, kissing the top of her head. "Bye, Georgie."

Georgiana gave her brother a hard squeeze before releasing him. She watched him turn away into the airport before allowing her smile to dissipate. In all the years Georgiana had known her brother, she'd never seen him so distant. The whole weekend Will had been absent from the house, shirking the "administrative" duties he claimed were crying for his attention. Instead, he slept little, leaving early in the morning and coming back late at night, no evidence for his existence except for tired horses and used saddles hanging in the estate's barn.

William turned to give his sister one last wave, which her slim fair arm cheerfully returned. He turned back to security and popped his earbuds in, shouldering his messenger bag so it was appropriately nestled on his collarbone as the opening chords of R.E.M. filtered through his ear. As he stood behind the mounds of nervous fliers, he made a face and rubbed his thigh: William had spent the last couple days saddle-bound, and now his legs were crying out with the physical strenuity he foisted upon them.

But his days in the green of New York, in the fields where he so often was able to feel at one with nature, were unfulfilling and left much to be desired. Even in the hardwood study of his ancestral home, Darcy was tormented in a place he thought paradisiacal. He was trapped in his own inferno, in a state where he could not escape Elizabeth Bennet's jarring woods. _I do hope Darcy, that after you have finished ostracizing every person in your life that your selfishness proves a worthy companion, for it seems that's all you will have left._ William clenched his jaw, shuffling mechanically through the metal detectors. Though his face portrayed nothing but a stone wall, Will anguished over his predicament: _do I try and apologize? How can I reach out to her? How are we going to get along in the wedding, let alone in the courtroom… what have I done? I'm such a pretentious dick._ As his flight was called to board, Darcy got in line with a resolution, his phone poised to deliver a voicemail at her office.

* * *

"Lizzy…" a soft voice sang.

Elizabeth Bennet heard a voice from deep within her slumber but ignored it.

"Lizzy." The voice was slightly more abrasive. "Elizabeth!" The shout was accompanied by a hard prod in Lizzy's shoulder.

Lizzy turned on her stomach, groaning as she struggled to open her eyes. "What?" she gritted sleepily.

"Wake up. It's 8!" Lydia chirped.

Lizzy opened her eyes all the way. Her younger sibling perched on the foot of the bed, curls pulled back. She leapt up with gravity-defying enthusiasm and opened the blinds.

Lizzy groaned as a wave of fresh sunlight cascaded into the room. "Why so early?"

"It's the weekend bitch. We've got a city to scout!" Lydia wiggled her curves and danced on the cold hardwood.

Lizzy shoved a pillow over her head. She rarely greeted Saturday mornings before a cup of coffee and the arrival of 10:00 a.m. "You, Miss Thang, will not be "scouting" anything in this city… maybe you could look for a job?"

The weekend had rolled around finally. Lizzy relished her one day to sleep in as frazzled and swamped as she was with work. On Thursday she had taken a record-breaking number of Aspirin after an all-too intimidating meeting with her boss. Even without the hassle of work, Lizzy made every attempt to keep tabs on Lydia, whose patience for sedentary activities had seemed to decrease exponentially now that she had entered the city. Just last night, Lizzy had had to track her scampering young sister down after an exacting day of work as Lydia tried to flirt her way into one of the city's seedier clubs. After an appropriate amount of scolding and threat-making, the sisters had fallen into bed, giggling inanely at a rerun of _Seinfeld._

But with the sun of a new day, Lydia's sins were cleansed, and she pushed her reluctant sister into a tepid shower before venturing into the closet.

Lizzy shook herself awake and pumped her hand full of jasmine shampoo. "I have to run some errands, and we need to find you a dress for the wedding…"

Lydia peeked out from the closet with a broad smile. "Shopping!"

"You're kidding."

Lydia gave her sister a faux-confused look. "I don't understand what's wrong."

Lizzy gestured to her younger sister's body. "You can't seriously think _that_ is wedding appropriate… I mean, if you come in that you better know your hourly rate as well."

Lydia scoffed. "Please, Lizzy. It's 2018, I can hardly be compared to a prostitute... Sometimes you are so old-fashioned."

The sisters continued to bicker in the crowded Event department of Saks, so engrossed in their conversation they neglected to notice the striking yellow figure of another woman approaching.

"Eliza? Eliza Bennet?"

Upon hearing their surname, both Lizzy and Lydia broke away from their conversation. Lizzy turned slowly, pleading in vain that her addressor was not who she knew it was.

"Ah, Caroline," Lizzy managed a weak grin. She was momentarily taken aback by the daffodil yellow of her outfit in contrast to her equally shocking red hair.

Caroline Bingley pulled her forward for two quick pecks European-style. _Yeesh_. She stepped back and slowly began her descent into total condescension. "I didn't know you shopped at Saks."

Lydia snorted, and Lizzy grabbed her sister's arm. "Um, actually, my young sister Lydia" - Lizzy turned towards her - "needs a dress for the wedding. She's staying with me for the first part of her summer."

"Ah, I see." Caroline gave a tight lipped smile towards the younger Bennet girl, grimacing slightly as she took in the obscene tightness of the glittering dress.

"I'm Lydia Bennet." Lydia proffered her hand to Caroline, who took it the same way a mysophobiac might pick up a dirty dish rag. "Caroline Bingley," she enunciated primly, contorting her sharp features to make (what she presumably thought was) a friendly face.

"I saw your brother last weekend." Lizzy stated.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really." The conversation was painfully stilted, and Lizzy looked longingly towards the elevator.

"So, I suppose you were in Manhattan last week?"

"Yeah, I was visiting Jane… I actually met Fitz."

"Oh Richard? Yes, he's kind of a rowdy man isn't he? For the life of me, I can't understand why Charles made him a groomsman - I mean could you imagine the spectacle if -?"

"Actually, I rather liked him." Lizzy interrupted, stacking some dresses on the rack, the harsh crack of plastic on plastic punctuating her interjection.

The two woman stood opposite one another, the five feet between them heavy with tense cordiality.

"How's work?" Caroline made another futile attempt at conversation.

"Fine… busy. I have a trial coming up."

"Oh," Caroline shook her head in mock understanding. "How funny is it that you and Will are working on the same case - but opposite sides!"

"I laugh about it all the time."

"The universe can be so peculiar."

"Yes, the universe." Lizzy gave her a tight lipped smile. She turned her head at an oncoming sound.

Lydia stood in front of the women, knees bent awkwardly as she tried to balance in radiantly sparkly six inch heels."I'm sure with a little practice…" she looked downward and admired her calves in the stilettos.

Lizzy cringed, and Caroline huffed a loud breath.

* * *

Lizzy guided Lydia into Charlie's, pleading, for the second time that day, that George would not be working at that hour. The sisters were exhausted - the bottoms of their feet felt flat with use. Lizzy dragged the younger Bennet away from the bar and towards one of the booths that lined the corner.

"This is where you hang out?" Lydia wrinkled her nose in disgust. It was only six p.m., so the usual rowdy Saturday night crowd would not yet emerge for several hours. The place was dimly lit, and its interiors were unflatteringly lit by the small light dangling from the ceiling.

Turning around casually, Lizzy looked towards the bar. _Shit_. George was cleaning glasses casually, his back turned to her. She looked back to her menu.

Lydia narrowed her eyes. "What was that face?"

"What do you mean?" Lizzy feigned innocence. "Let's order."

Lydia eyed her sister a little longer before looking up cheerfully to the approaching waiter.

The pair chewed slowly and quietly. Lydia munched at her burger productively while Lizzy merely picked at a salad.

"OK." Lydia put down her Diet Coke. "What's up?"

Lizzy looked up questioningly.

"I catch you and Mr. Darcy going at it at Jane's engagement party… and yes I saw the eye-sex. Then he leaves a voicemail on your work phone - and you looked so surprised I can't imagine it was possibly a casual - let alone work-related - incident. So, what's up?"

"It's complicated." Lizzy threw her used napkin on the table.

"Do you like him?"

Lizzy lifted a shoulder.

"Do you want to have sex?"

"Jeez, Lydia, no one could ever call you indirect."

Lydia shrugged but continued to stare at Lizzy expectantly.

"He's… a jerk."

"But?"

"He's hot as hell." Lizzy gave her sister a sly smile.

"Fuck yeah he is."

Lizzy gave her sister a disapproving frown but turned back to her dinner with the countenance of a nod.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"Do about it? I can't do anything about it - he's Charles's friend, we _work_ together, he would toss me aside the second a young blonde piece of ass walked by…"

"So? Why not have one _unbelievable_ night y'know? I mean, there's no way he could be bad. You don't have to marry the guy."

"My, who knew you were such a 'So' Girl." Lizzy shook her head and declined to answer any more of Lydia's questions despite her prodding. But the seed was planted, that she could not deny.

Ten minutes passed in quiet introspection. "Don't talk to anyone," Lizzy finally spoke, looking pointedly to her sister who gave her a sweet smile, clearly giddy with victory. She slid out of the booth and headed for the exit. She pushed open the Emergency Exit by the bathroom. It reeked of spilt beer, and the dark alleyway was dank in the wet night. She glanced at the garbage cans pushed against the gritty brick and cringed slightly. She felt the corners of brick digging into her back again. His hand gripping her hip again. She felt the heat of him, of his mouth as it surrounded her. She closed her eyes momentarily before opening them and pulled out her cell phone. She called her work phone and logged into the voicemail.

 _One new message._

Lizzy brought her phone away from her ear, covering the speaker - overcome with a sudden all-encasing nervousness. But she braced herself with the intake of a slightly quaky breath, and brought the phone back to her ear robotically.

 _Miss Bennet, I know I'm near the bottom - if not the bottom - of the list of people you want to talk to. But please, hear me out - I will not repeat my sentiments from Saturday, nor will I issue a renewal of those offers which were so alarmingly disgusting. Know the last thing I wish to do is cause you pain or exonerate myself from the charges you have so generously bestowed. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice._

Lizzy rolled her eyes. _Mr. Darcy put down the thesaurus_.

I _'ll start with your assumptions regarding my interference in Bingley's affections for your sister. When I first met Jane in Paris, I was struck immediately by her milieu. I grew up with this crowd - I know the dangers and influences of old money, new money. I've met many women - a few I've even deeply cared for - that ultimately pursued me only for my income. In hindsight, I know I shouldn't have - assumptions do make one an ass, do they not? - but I associated Jane as one of these women. Charles has a decent amount of family money, and I had no idea whatsoever of Jane's own value… so yes, I will not deny that at first glance, I was keen to dissuade Charles from what I thought would be a harmful relationship… Charles has been - flighty - in the past, and I sensed no more permanent intention on his part this time around, neither did I sense any substantial relationship between the two. I could sense it, too, from the actions of your family - your mother's inclination to praise the match as fortuitous, your sister's immaturity in her eagerness to pursue boys, and I was decently concerned. As self-righteous as you may dignify me, you must know, I revealed my apprehension to Charles only for his self-preservation. He is my best friend, and I wished only in what I thought were his best interest - I truly wished to see neither party injured. Of course, your knowledge of your sister's circumstances were clearly superior to mine, and luckily neither Charles nor Jane acted in any manner stupid enough to heed my words._

 _And with respect to your more implicative accusations, of having ruined George Wickham, I'm afraid I must delve into a rather lengthy narrative. What malicious rumors Wickham has told you about myself, I can only imagine, but I promise to tell you nothing but the truth. George Wickham was the son of one of my father's employees - a well paid, honest man, whom my father quickly befriended. George and I were fast friends from a young age, and my father looked very favorably upon him - sending him to private school, and even paying for his tuition at Columbia. My father had high expectations of George… he wanted him to become a Lawyer, and Wickham probably would've been a good one - he was a bright boy. But it was a long time - too long really, before I was made of aware of George's less-than honorable appetite. He spent years at school partying, womanizing… he partook a little too aggressively into the party culture. Of course in his older age, my father didn't - he refused to - believe of Wickham's behavior - he thought it was a phase… My father became sick soon after - I was finishing law school and was given health care power of attorney. George came quickly after his death - he too was finishing law school, but he had squandered all his money away, and he asked me for his sum of the inheritance. I tried to convince him to put it in a trust - to save it - but he was nervous, eager for fast cash… I suppose he owed people money - I'd really prefer not to know._

 _We lost contact for a while. I heard rumors regarding his reputation but I paid them little heed - it was my mistake to think his malfeasance wouldn't affect me. I suppose it's my fault that I didn't pay serious attention to them… I trust you remember my younger sister, Georgiana? A few years after I finished school, I moved to the West Coast, entrusting a dear family friend with Georgiana's care. She was on break from school, and I had just started my job at the firm - she was sixteen, and I allowed her after withstanding a profuse amount of begging to go up to New York with her friend. Apparently there she encountered George Wickham - a man who had always looked upon her I thought rather paternally, but whom she - without my knowledge - harbored fond feelings for since her youth. I don't know many of the details - my sister has been distant since then, disinclined to tell me any specifics… but I know Wickham coerced her into sneaking out from her hotel one night, and he took her to a bar. I'm aware he made her promises there, and she indubitably formed an attachment. The pair planned several rendezvous - she paid for all of them, I received the expense reports soon after._

 _It continued like this for at least a month. I should've known - sending Georgiana into such an adult world with too little supervision… she was naive, too naive for sixteen, really. And I'm sure the friend she was with did nothing but support the coupling. Anyways, Georgiana was due back at school, but she had planned to see Wickham shortly before her departure. Apparently, he did not remember the planned date, however, and Georgiana, when she arrived in the hotel room - prepaid by her, of course - she walked into, well, the end, I suppose. Wickham was engaging in prostitution and drug use not only in that instant, but throughout their entire 'relationship' as well. Georgiana was obviously desolate. She returned home with little more than a text to alert myself or her guardian. I didn't discover the state of the situation until Fitz called me… Georgiana hadn't eaten in days, hadn't left her bed. I flew to her side of course and immediately sought out the cause of her distress…_ He cleared his throat. _I'm not sure I've ever encountered such pure emotions of utter hatred and sadness directed towards a singular human being in all my life. Georgie shut me out - I took her to multiple specialists… I imagine we went through about ten in a two month period before I could see some progress… The rest of my time was spent focusing on retribution. Not revenge - I wanted justice. So I called Wickham's coworkers and dug around. I found that the events which ruined Georgiana were not isolated… of course I alerted his boss of his transgressions, and Wickham was promptly fired and disbarred… Losing one's employment is of course not equal for the emotional turmoil foisted upon Georgie and myself - Fitz, too even._

 _Georgiana is remarkably better now… she is social again, she is happy - she is even coming to San Francisco once the school year is up. But I imagine you can now understand my hostility towards the man - and towards your attachment with him. I don't know under what guise he has gained your trust - he has depicted myself as a man inferior to himself._

 _Again, I hope to have provided you with an honest narrative… I know I have insulted you, but I hope you can see past my character faults to see the cruel nature of George Wickham. I expect no response - I really didn't expect you to listen this far… God knows how long it's taken you to listen to this much. Well… I guess I'll be seeing you soon._

Lizzy brought her phone from her ear. Her chest swelled, and a sharp pang of pain struck her ribs. For several moments she stared at the brick wall across from her. She was nauseous, her head hurt, there was tight knot in her chest. "Oh my god. What…" She trailed off, her face growing sore with the vigorous degree to which she furrowed her eyebrows. She pocketed her phone leisurely and stepped quietly back into Charlie's.

* * *

The bar was slightly more crowded: early birds cloistered around the few empty bar stools. Lizzy walked briskly back to her booth, frowning at Lydia's absence as she quickly signed the check. She turned to look for her sister.

 _Of course._

Her younger sister leaned casually on the bartop, her denim-clad hip popped to one side as she blatantly flirted with… _George Wickham_? Enlightened as she presently was, Lizzy practically stomped to the bar.

"Lizzy Bennet!" George gave the sour oncomer a cheesy smile, drying a glass with a towel.

"Hi George," she bit her tongue and gave him a tight smile. _Should I say something?_ "Ready to go, Lydia?" She looked down to her sister, whose gaze was trained solely on George. "Lydia?"

"Huh, what?" Lydia turned to look up at Lizzy.

"Let's go." Lizzy raised her hand so it lightly cupped her sister's elbow.

"Already? I was talking..." Lydia gave her sister a frown.

"You're a minor." Lizzy gave her a pointed look, hoping George caught the hint… Georgiana was only sixteen… she pushed the thought out of her head.

"Lizzy!"

"Yep. And we best leave before it gets too rowdy in here. It was nice seeing you George." She gave him a nod of acknowledgement before practically dragging Lydia from the bar, oblivious to the slip of paper crumpled in Lydia's hand as they tumbled into the night air.

* * *

"I don't want you talking to him," Lizzy grunted as her old wooden brush caught in the mass of her tangly hair.

"Why not?" Lydia scrunched her nose, meeting her sister's gaze in the mirror. "And when did you get so bossy?"

"I'm not bossy." Lizzy pulled back with mock indignation. "I'm the boss."

"Okay, horse-girl," Lydia snorted, shrieking as she ducked from the flying hair brush as it flew across the room.

"Lizzy?" A voice cried from the living room.

Elizabeth scrambled from her perch on the floor to the living room. "Charlotte!" she cried gaily, tightly embracing the shorter girl.

Charlotte pulled back. "I used my spare key, sorry, I didn't mean to show up so unannounced."

"Well, you come with gifts so all is forgiven," Lizzy smiled and gestured to the bottle of wine tucked under Charlotte's arm. She beckoned Charlotte to follow them to the kitchen where she poured them each a glass.

Charlotte glanced upstairs. "Lydia here?"

"Oh, yeah, it's been a _blast_." Lizzy rolled her eyes sarcastically. "She steals my clothes, goes out at night, talks to men… I swear, we were never that crazy!"

"Well, I was certainly never that crazy."

Lizzy squinted her eyes. "Really? You can't tell me that one night in Cancun in 2011 -"

"Oh, you shush." Charlotte swatted her arm and took her glass.

"Mm." Lizzy eyed her as she took a long sip. She grimaced slightly as the sharp acridity pierced her throat. She looked up to the second floor just as she heard a door slam and Lydia's loud voice screaming excitedly into the phone.

"Ready for kids?"

"Yeah," Lizzy snorted. A minute of silence passed.

"So... "

"So…" Lizzy mocked Charlotte's tone but refused to meet her eyes.

"How are things with you?"

"They're fine. I visited Jane in New York for Easter, saw Charles and one of his groomsmen Fitz."

"Fitz?"

"Richard Fitzwilliam… he's actually Mr. Darcy's cousin."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Lizzy moved to sit on the sofa. "I shouldn't even be drinking tonight, honestly, I need to go into work tomorrow, I have that hearing coming up two and a half weeks -"

"But tomorrow's Sunday!"

"I know, I know, but I just have a shitload of work. There's no way I'm going to win this case, I mean, I just can't compete. Mr. Darcy comes from a larger, richer, firm, he's a more experienced, more educated lawyer, I mean, I'm not sure why they even put me on the case!"

"Lizzy, shhh." Charlotte patted her arm, moving to sit closer to her on the settee. "You're rambling, darling… You're a smart girl. You graduated with honors - summa sum… summa - summa something, I don't know - but don't become this self-deprecating girl, that's not you! You're confident, you're strong, you're a badass woman!"

Lizzy laughed. "I forgot about that semester you took a Women Studies' class."

"Shut up."

"No, but thanks. Seriously."

"No problem." Charlotte glanced out the side of her eye. "So, what about Darcy?"

Lizzy looked down at her glass. "What about him?"

"Have you talked to him?"

"No."

"Not even for work?"

"Nope." Lizzy popped the 'p' with her lips.

"There's definitely something you're not telling me."

"Both you and Lydia are filled with this suspicion that Darcy and I are soul-mates… I wish you would just drop it."

Charlotte squinted. "C'mon. Tell me."

Lizzy leaned her head back on the plump sofa. She turned slightly to look at Charlotte. She turned back to the ceiling and wet her lips, "He called." It was a whisper.

Charlotte waited.

"He called, and he left a message. A long, long, long message."

"Oh my god… What'd it say?"

Lizzy relayed the contents of the message to Charlotte, leaving out the parts she discerned private. Afterwards the two sat in silence.

"Fuck."

"I know." Lizzy smirked. She then frowned. "What the hell do I do?"

"I guess you have to talk to him - well that's obvious I suppose. It doesn't have to be before the hearing… you can keep it professional until then I'm sure."

"But then - do I, do I talk to him at the wedding? I mean we're fucking walking down an aisle together… God I don't even know what I'd say…"

"Do you know how you feel about him?"

Lizzy shook her head 'no.' "It's so complicated, I can't believe I was such a complete and utter fool - I made all these suppositions, I didn't even give him a chance really…"

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Don't beat yourself over it… I mean he did just want to be your fuck-buddy essentially."

"Right," Lizzy countenanced. "But I can't admit to having no part in that outcome… I certainly didn't deter his path… and now, now he's apologizing, and I feel so awful, but then of course, he's been nothing but a monumental douche… I just" She fell back in defeat, wearily rubbing her forehead with her hand.

"You can't blame yourself."

"I can't blame him."

Charlotte smirked down at her glass. "Huh." The girls sat in silence for a little while longer before their peaceful solitude was interrupted by a loud laugh as Lydia ran down the stairs.


End file.
